


Run After Me, I Long To Love You

by CaffeineFueledMusings



Category: One Direction
Genre: 16-Year-Old Harry, 17-Year-Old Louis, Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Louis, Coming of Age, Consensual Underage Sex, Dry Humping, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Football Player Louis, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Louis & Gemma Friendship, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Drug and Alcohol Use, Musician Harry, Rimming, Secret Relationship, Sexuality Crisis, Swearing, Teen Angst, Top Harry, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 08:39:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 58,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaffeineFueledMusings/pseuds/CaffeineFueledMusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His stomach flips nervously as he recounts his earlier encounter. As much as he wants to claim embarrassment for his strange reaction to the green eyed boy, a small part of him keeps telling himself that is simply not the case. What it actually is though, he refuses to think about right now.</p><p> </p><p>(or where Louis starts his senior year at a new high school, and his new friend's little brother is causing him to question everything he knows about himself).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hello There, The Angel From My Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> This story was born simply because of my love of Louis/Gemma friendships and how I feel there aren't enough stories featuring them.
> 
> The story title comes from the song "Let Me Love You" by Glad Ghosts, and the chapter title from "Miss You" by Blink 182
> 
> And, of course, I don't know any of the people featured in this story in real life or claim to know anything about their personal lives. They are merely the inspirations for my characters. This is a work of fiction and all events featured in this story have happened nowhere other than the inside of my own head :)
> 
> And please don't post this anywhere else without my permission. Thank you.

“I don’t know you.”

Louis glances up, to find the girl sitting in the desk next to him staring at him intently, a mischievous sort of glint in her eyes. He glances behind him, just to be positive that she isn’t speaking to someone else. But he can clearly see that the room is still pretty much empty, the majority of students deciding to wait until the last minute to head into their classrooms.

Louis turns back to the girl, who is still staring at him expectantly and mumbles, “Sorry?”

“I know practically everybody in this school,” she replies simply, narrowing her eyes at him in concentration, “but I don’t know you. Tell me why that is.”

Louis just stares at her for a moment, a bit thrown by her question. She just stares back, a smile playing at the corners of her lips and her perfectly arched eyebrows raised.

“I, um… I’m Louis, Tomlinson. I just moved to town a few weeks ago,” he finally replies.

The girl nods, then scoots her desk closer to Louis. “Well, today is your lucky day, my friend. Because I am the perfect person to show you the ropes around here.”

“Is that so?” Louis smirks.

“Oh absolutely. Let me see that.” She quickly snatches Louis’ schedule from his desk, looking over it before glancing at her own.

Louis can’t help but watch her closely as a slow smile spreads across her face, a slight dimple appearing in her cheek. She looks back up at Louis, her eyes sparkling.

“Oh yes, this is definitely your lucky day. It looks like you will be blessed with my presence in every class.”

“Lucky me,” Louis laughs.

She holds out her hand to him, her long, slender fingers adorned with several different rings, “Gemma Styles.”

Louis takes her hand happily, “Pleasure, I’m sure.”

Her smile widens. “It is.”

Before Louis can reply the school bell rings and the last few students file into the room and take their seats. The teacher clears his throat from the front of the room, and begins his planned speech welcoming them all to another year together.

Gemma winks at Louis as she scoots her desk back to its original positions and turns her attention towards the front of the room.

Louis does the same, thinking perhaps this new school will not be as bad as he had originally thought.

*

 

“What kind of parents makes their child start at a bran new school their senior year of high school?” Gemma announces as soon as the bell rings at the end of the hour.

Louis looks up at her as he shovels his books into his bag. She is standing by his desk with her books held close to her chest, watching Louis closely.

“It just seems a tad cruel,” she adds on.

Louis just shrugs as they begin to make their way towards the door together, “Didn’t have much of a choice really. My mom got married this summer. This is where the guy lives and where his job is. So now here I am.”

Gemma nods in almost a knowing way, “Ah yes, parents getting remarried can be tricky business. Do like the guy?”

Louis considers this for a moment. Honestly, no one has ever asked him that before. He thinks about the way his mother’s face would light up when Mark would arrive at their house to take her out to dinner, and of the way his sisters would laugh and scream when Mark would chase them around the yard pretending to be a dinosaur. But most of all Louis would think of the look of utter exhaustion on his mother’s face after making the long trip back from Mark’s house every weekend. If living with him meant Louis never had to see her look like that again, he supposed he was okay with moving.

“Yeah. I really do,” he finally replies, “He makes my mom happy, and I would do anything for her.”

Gemma smiles at him kindly, linking her arm up with his. “Well, aren’t you just the sweetest thing? I’ve decided I quite like you, Tomlinson.”

“A high honor, I’m sure.”

“Absolutely, most would kill to be in your shoes.”

As they make their way down the hall to their next class, Louis can’t help but notice all the people that smile and wave at Gemma as they pass.

“Clearly. Am I in the presences of royalty?” Louis laughs, nudging her slightly.

Gemma shrugs. “I told you, I know everyone. Comes with the territory.”

“And what territory might that be?”

“Hmm, let’s see… there’s student body president, yearbook editor, leader of the drama club, head of the dance committee, and honestly, any committee where they want things done correctly… it’s pretty safe to say I have a lot of power around here. Plus I am super cute and bubbly. People want to know me.”  

“And yet you’re choosing to spend your valuable time with a lowly commoner such as myself?”

Gemma smiles at him, a laugh dancing behind her hazel eyes.

“Let’s just say I see a lot of potential in you, Louis.”

“Should I be scared?”

“Oh, definitely.”

*

 

Lunchtime is chaotic. Gemma tries to introduce Louis to a few people, but the girl literally knows everybody, and by the time they make it from one side of the cafeteria to the other all the faces have blurred together and Louis is pretty positive he couldn’t remember a single person’s name if his life depended on it.

Louis is more than relieved when Gemma takes him by the hand and leads him away from all the noise and out to a secluded bench in the schools court yard.

“What, don’t want to dine with your people?” Louis asks as he flops down beside her on the bench.

Gemma scrunches up her nose is disgust, “Of course not. They’re animals.”

Louis laughs, digging a bag of crisps out of his bag.

“I mean…” Gemma continues, staring off into the distance, “It’s really easy for me to get a long with people. I like people. But it’s not often that there’s anything more to it than that. It’s not often where I feel any sort of connection. I have lots of acquaintances, but no real friends.”

She glances at Louis quickly out of the corner of her eye before returning her attention towards the distant horizon.

“So…” Louis says carefully, slowly turning her words over in his mind, “you usually just eat lunch alone?”

She nods, turning her eyes back towards him.

“But today you’re eating lunch with me?” he continues hesitantly.

Gemma tilts her head slightly to the side, narrowing her eyes as she studies him carefully, “I see _potential_ in you.”

Louis gazes back at her, sees the challenge in her eyes, knows he’s being tested. He smiles warmly at her, leaning forward slightly, “Of course you do love, I am pretty spectacular after all.”

Gemma holds her straight face only for a moment before she begins to snort with laughter, “Oh yes, you’ll do quite nicely.”

*

 

“I think we should change our electives,” Gemma announces as they leave their last class of the day.

“And why’s that?” Louis asks, endlessly amused by the way Gemma just randomly brings things up out of nowhere.

“I mean, do we really need study hall? It’s not like I won’t be coming over to your house all the time to study anyways.”

“Oh really now?”

“Duh. And of course like a true friend I’m sure you’ll have a cup of tea and biscuits waiting for me when that happens, right?”

“Naturally.”

“Good, good. So instead of study hall I was thinking that we should sign up for drama.”

“Why drama?”

Gemma rolls her eyes, “ _Because_ Louis you need to have a go at the theatrical arts to see if you like it. You know, test the waters a bit. ‘Cause if you do then we can audition for the winter production together, get the leading roles, fill our senior year with loads of hilarious and awesome backstage memories, and be the envy of every single other student in this entire school, of course. Honestly man, keep up.”

“What makes you even think we’d even get the leads?”

“Um, hello. Leader of the drama club, remember? Plus being my best friend, and with _that_ face, you’re a shoe in, for sure.”

“It sounds perfect love,” Louis laughs fondly.

“Excellent! Now, what are you doing? You look a bit lost.”

“Oh… I’m just trying to remember where the locker room is. I’m going to the football try outs today.”

Gemma’s eyes light up immediately, “Are you any good?”

“I’d say decent, yeah.”

“Perfect. The team could use all the help it could get. Now go straight down this hall, take a left at the end, and lockers rooms will be on your right.”

“Thank you doll. I don’t know what I would ever do without you.”

“Be hopelessly lost, that’s for sure. You’d be stuck wandering these halls until the day you die. Now go on tiger and show them how it’s done. I expect a full report in the morning.”

“Of course. Later!” Louis calls as he jogs off down the hall, not wanting to be late. Once in the locker room he quickly changes into his sports kit, feeling the familiar excitement begin to build in the pit of his stomach. He knows once he is able to throw himself back into the sport he loves that this place will finally start to feel like home to him.

He makes his way through the doors that lead to the outside, turning the corner towards the football pitch when he suddenly slams hard into something -or someone- solid. Louis stumbles back a few steps, but a large hand reaches out, wrapping around his bicep to steady him.

“Whoa there, careful mate,” comes a very deep voice from somewhere above him.

Louis looks up, and the first thing his brain registers is green: so, so green. He blinks rapidly, features slowly beginning to come into focus around the entrancing color. Eyes, Louis finally realizes, he is staring up into the most beautiful green eyes he has ever seen: sparkling, slow blinking. He tries to focus on the face they belong to, but he can only seem to register it one section at a time; a goofy, lop-sided grin, deep dimples, and a mess of dark brown curls.

A giggle to Louis’ left suddenly shatters through his trance like state, and he glances towards the sound. Sitting on a bench close by is a boy with a perfectly sculpted black quiff and a girl with light purple hair. They wear matching doc martens, leather jackets, and rather amused expressions. Louis gulps once he realizes that they are laughing at him.

“I think you broke him Harry,” the boy smirks, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

Harry.

Louis turns his attention back to Mr. Harry-Green-Eyes and the pieces of him finally seem to fall together to form an entire person, one that is smiling down at him rather fondly.

“So-sorry,” Louis chokes out. What the hell, why is he stuttering?

Louis looks down at the ground, quickly side stepping this Harry kid and walks towards the football pitch as fast as he can without breaking into a full on sprint. He wants to get as far away from this whole situation as humanly possible.

He can feel Harry’s eyes on his back as he yells out a “good luck” after him, and Louis feels the blush reach all the way to the tips of his ears.

*

 

Louis sits on the field with the rest of the boys trying out as the coach paces back and forth in front of them. He assumes he is giving instructions for the tryouts, though try as he might Louis simply cannot focus on the words the coach is saying.

His stomach flips nervously as he recounts his earlier encounter. As much as he wants to claim embarrassment for his strange reaction to the green-eyed boy, a small part of him keeps telling himself that is simply not the case. What it actually is though, he refuses to think about right now.

The coach blows his whistle and Louis pops up from the ground, eager to lose himself in some physical activity. He shuts out all thoughts, focusing all his energy into running faster and shooting straighter. By the end of it all he feels completely winded, his face hot and his clothes sticking to him uncomfortably, but he doesn’t miss the rather impressed look the coach sends his way.

“Alright boys, great job by everyone today,” the coach calls out, “I’ll work on the final listing tonight and it’ll be posted on the bulletin board in the athletics hall first thing tomorrow morning. Now hit the showers!”

Louis pushes his sweaty fringe off his face, and begins to make his way back towards the lockers rooms, greatly looking forward to his much-needed shower.

“Oi!”

Louis turns and sees a blonde lad come jogging up to him, a huge grin spread across his face.

“You were bloody brilliant out there today,” he says in a thick Irish accent, “you’re the new kid, yeah?”

“Why? Have people been talking about me already?” Louis asks, quirking an eyebrow.

The blonde laughs loudly. “Oh of course! Anyone who can keep Gemma Style’s attention for more than a few minutes is bound to be big news. I’m Niall, by the way.”

“Louis. So tell me Niall, what do you think my chances are of making the team?”

“Well, as long as practice today wasn’t some sort of a fluke, I’d say that Payno’s spot as captain is in jeopardy this year.”

Louis laughs, though he has no idea who the Irish lad is referring to, he hopes that he is correct.

*

 

As Louis walks through his front door the first thing he hears is Fizzy screaming from the living room, “Give it back! Now!”

He glances quickly into the room to see Fizzy chasing around one of the twins (he can’t tell which one for they are nothing more than a blur of blonde hair at this point) around all the half empty moving boxes that line the room, some unknown object of Fizzy’s held tightly in the twin’s hand.

Louis rolls his eyes, not wanting to be sucked into their unnecessary drama, and quickly sneaks off up the stairs to his bedroom. He still has a lot of unpacking to do himself, for he had been too nervous about starting all over again at a new school to really focus on settling in.

He briefly entertains the idea of working on it now, before flopping face down on his bed, the exhaustion of the day taking over his bones. He thinks of how it used to be, when he’d come home from a long, hard practice and Eleanor would come over and rub all the tense knots out of his neck and shoulders.

Sighing loudly he reaches for the phone in his pocket, clicking on Eleanor’s contact. She picks up after the second ring.

“Babe!” she squeals excitedly down the phone, “How was your first day?”

Louis can’t help the huge smile that spreads across his face just at the sound of her voice. God, he’s missed her.

“It was good, I like my classes so far and had football tryouts today. Think my chances are pretty good.”

“That’s great, have you made any friends yet?”

“I met a lot of people, yeah, but mostly this girl, Gemma. She’s been a big help showing me around and everything. I think she’ll be a good friend.”

There is a long pause from the other end of the phone, and Louis thinks for a moment that the call might have been dropped before he hears Eleanor clear her throat.

“So,” she says slowly, “a girl you say?”

Louis rolls his eyes, rubbing a hand against his forehead in frustration.

“Not like that El, don’t even start.”

“Well, what do you want me to say, Lou? You live over two hours away now. What’s to stop you from going after all these girls that are apparently just throwing themselves at you already?”

“Okay, first of all, it’s one girl, and if you were actually listening to me then you would have heard me say she’s a friend. _A friend._ Secondly, you should give me a little more credit than that. You know I would never cheat on you.”

“I know,” Eleanor replies in a small voice, “it’s just that I miss you so much, and I guess… it just drives me a bit crazy, that’s all.”

“Yeah, I know. I miss you too, babe.”

“When do you think I’ll be able to come visit you?”

“I’m not sure yet, but honestly, the sooner the better.”

Louis suddenly hears a couple of different voices in the background and Eleanor whispering “just a minute” to someone.

“Hey Lou,” she says a bit louder, “I’ve actually got to get going. The girls and I are going to get something to eat.”

“Okay, tell everyone I said hi.”

“Will do, love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye”

Louis keeps the phone pressed to his ear after Eleanor hangs up, missing the sound of her voice in the growing silence. The phone suddenly buzzes against him, scaring him so that he tosses it to the other side of the bed and lets out a rather high pitched yelp that he’s glad no one is around to hear.

He quickly snatches his phone back up and sees that he has a text message from an unknown number.

**I was just wondering if you needed a ride to school in the morning? –Gemma Xx**

Louis let’s out a small chuckle before quickly typing out his response.

**Sounds wonderful, but how did you get my number? :)**

**Don’t ask stupid questions. Now send me your address.**

Louis complies quickly, and Gemma’s reply comes not a moment later.

**Good. I’ll see you at 7:45. Sleep well sunshine Xx**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a general warning that I only really have a vague idea of where I want this story to go so it maybe a bit slow going with the updates while I figure it all out. Though I will try to get them up as soon as I possibly can.


	2. You Can Make The Blue Sky Blush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song "Sun of a Gun" by Oh Land.

At exactly 7:45 there are three crisp knocks at the front door. Louis swings the door open to see Gemma standing there with her hands clasped in front of her, rocking back and forth on her heels.

“You look dashing this morning,” she says, head tilted to the side as she takes in Louis’ dark skinnies and light grey jumper, “are you trying to seduce me?”

“Only if it’s working,” Louis replies as he slips on his vans before stepping out the door and closing it behind him.

“I just don’t know how I’ll ever manage to keep my hands off you,” Gemma sighs overdramatically, heading over to her car with Louis close behind, chuckling.

Once in car Louis is sitting there quietly as Gemma starts up the engine, when suddenly he hears movement from behind him. Louis jumps a bit, startled, and turns to see a rather lanky figure sitting up from where they had previously been laying out across the backseat. They shake out their dark curls and look up and… shit.

“Oh, hi,” the Harry boy says once his eyes land on Louis, a rather sleepy smile on his face.

“Oh yeah Louis, this is my little brother, Harry,” Gemma says waving her hand about vaguely, eyes never leaving the road.

Harry leans forward between their two seats, yawning into the back of his hand before smiling at Louis, “Yeah, we’ve already met actually. We _bumped_ into each other yesterday, didn’t we?”

“Oh yeah, hi,” Louis mumbles, hoping that his cheeks are not as red as they feel.

“So,” Gemma asks as she pulls up to a stoplight, completely oblivious to Louis’ sudden awkward behavior, “how did it go yesterday?”

Louis looks at her for a moment, and she raises her eyebrows at him.

“Tryouts?” she clarifies.

“Oh. Good, I think. Coach is supposed to post the list this morning.”

“I’m sure you did great.”

“It’s really easy to make the teams here,” Harry adds, rubbing at his eyes like a giant toddler that has just been waken up from a nap, “so I’m sure that if you are at least able to kick the ball without falling all over yourself you should be golden.”

“I’m not sure if that was supposed to be encouraging or not,” Louis confesses with a smirk.

“It was supposed to be. I don’t know, I’m still half asleep.”

“It was only slightly insulting,” Gemma shrugs.

“Shut up. Fine, I’m sure you ran circles around all the other players, Louis. I bet you are an absolute football _God._ There, happy now, Gem?”

“I’ll be happy once I get you fitted for your cheerleading skirt,” Gemma replies, glancing at her brother in the rear view mirror, “Looks like you’ve got your own personal fan club back there, Louis.”

“Fuck off,” Harry mumbles as he lays back down, burying his face into the seat.

“You two remind me of me and my sister, Lottie,” Louis laughs fondly, staring out the window, “though she’s a lot younger than I am, we go back and forth in much the same way.”

A comfortable silence falls over the car after that, and soon they are pulling into the school’s parking lot.

Louis gets out and looks up after closing his door, startled to find Harry very much in his space.

“I wasn’t trying to say I didn’t think you were good, just so you know,” he says earnestly, his green eyes impossibly big, and looking utterly concerned as they stare at Louis.

“Yeah, no, I knew that. No worries.” Louis gulps, taking a step back.

Gemma steps up besides them. “Well, time to go see what the fates have decided.”

She turns to Harry, raising her eyebrows at him. “You can run along now.”

“Not a chance,” he replies, giving Louis a bright smile, his dimples popping out at full force, “I am now emotionally invested in the story. I must know how it turns out.”

“If you must,” Gemma sighs, beginning to walk briskly towards the school, the two boys following in her wake.

“Good luck with that one,” Harry whispers, “She’s a fucking handful.”

“I like a challenge,” Louis replies with a shrug.

“Noted.” Harry says so quietly that Louis isn’t really sure if he heard him correctly or not.

As they enter the athletics hall Louis nerves hit him all at once, and it feels like his heart has jumped up into his throat. Gemma and Harry hang back as Louis makes his way through the small crowd that has gathered in front of the bulletin board.

He glances down the list quickly and doesn’t see his name at first. Panic begins to pump through his veins, but he takes a deep breath and goes over the list again, this time much slower. He finally spots his name up near the top of the list.

**Louis Tomlinson – Forward – Co-Captain**

Louis rereads it three more times to make sure what he’s seeing it correct. He blinks a few times then, letting it all sink in. Not only did he make the team, but he has also gotten the position he wants _and_ has been made co-captain.

“Holy shit,” Gemma says from his left, causing him to jump, “’Co-captain?’ You really are some kind of football God, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Louis smirks, “and I demand a virgin sacrifice before each game.”

Gemma rolls her eyes, “I highly doubt there are even enough virgins left in this school to pull that off. You’ll have to come up with something else.”

"Pizza rolls?"

"Deal."

She glances down at her watch quickly. “Shit. I’ve got to run to the office real quick before the bell. I’ll meet you in class, yeah?” And then she is off without giving Louis a chance to respond.

Louis glances back at the team list, and is happy to see Niall’s name is there as well. He had quite liked the Irish lad.

“Looks like I might need to be starting up that fan club after all,” Harry whispers hotly against Louis’ ear, causing shivers to run up and down his spine.

Louis glances over his shoulder to look back at Harry, just in time to see his eyes snap back up towards his. What had he been looking at?

“I’ll be seeing you,” Harry says with a wink, turning and walking off down the hall, leaving Louis standing there feeling as if the wind had been completely knocked out of him.

The warning bell startles him back into reality and he quickly makes his way to his first class. A few moments later Gemma glides into the room, dropping a piece of paper on Louis’ desk before taking her seat.

“I went ahead and switched us into drama,” she explains as Louis looks over the new schedule she had place before him.

“How did you change this? Doesn’t it require my signature or something?” Louis asks, looking rather impressed.

“Now now, a lady never reveals her secrets,” Gemma tuts, tapping Louis on the top of his head with her finger.

*

 

“Heads up, he doesn’t look very happy,” Niall whispers to Louis as they are getting changed for practice. Before he can even question what he’s on about Louis hears a throat clear behind him.

When Louis turns around he sees a very muscular boy with a buzz cut standing before him, a frown set across his features.

“Liam Payne,” the boy announces, as if that name is supposed to mean something. He holds out one of his large hands, but Louis just stares at it, blankly.

Liam lets out a rather exasperated sigh. “We’re co-captains.”

Louis takes the other boys hand quickly, trying to suppress a whimper when Liam squeezes just a tad too hard. “ _Oh._ Yeah, hi. I’m Louis-“

“Look,” Liam interrupts, releasing Louis’ hand as though his touch had burned him, “I know the Coach Higgins thinks you have a lot of talent, but I want you to understand something. This is my team. I’ve been with them for the last three years and I understand everybody’s strengths and weaknesses. So if there are any decisions you feel like making, you need to run them by me first. As long as you understand that, we should have no problems.”

Louis waits a beat to see if he is perhaps joking, but the set of his jaw tells him that Liam probably hasn’t had a decent laugh in at least a couple of years.

“Don’t get your sport knickers all twisted, or you may just pop something,” Louis says with a gentle laugh, “If it makes you feel better to be in charge, then go right ahead and don’t you worry your pretty little head about me. I’m perfectly content just to kick the ball about.”

Liam narrows his eyes at him, as if he thinks Louis is lying. Louis just smiles back at him, adding a wink for good measure.

“Fine, whatever,” Liam huffs out before turning on his heel and walking away.

“Is he always so charming?” Louis asks Niall once it’s just the two of them again.

“He just takes this all very seriously,” Niall shrugs, “guess he’s a lot riding on getting a sports scholarship. But he’s not such a bad lad once he loosens up a bit.”

“Well I hope so. I don’t see how he’s going to run across the pitch with that stick so far up his arse.”

Niall laughs loudly, the joyful sound bouncing off the lockers and walls around them. He seems unfazed by the frowns many of their teammates shoot his way. Louis admires him for that.

Louis follows Niall out to the football pitch and can’t help but glance at the few students they pass along the way, though none seem to resemble a certain lanky teen with brown curls.

Louis practices hard, as he always does, trying to push his body to its absolute limits until every move he makes on the field is perfect. There is the familiar burn to his muscles as he practices moves that have seem to become second nature to him at this point. They run through the drills quickly, then divide into two teams for a game of scrimmage.

Every time he manages to make a goal he notices that the frown on Liam’s face only seems to deepen. It is becoming pretty clear to Louis that Liam sees him as competition, and that if he is ever going to get his new co-captain to warm up to him he needs to remind him that they are apart of the same team. So he begins to make a point to pass to Liam more, but that only earns him a suspicious glare in return.

Liam has the ball now, racing down the field with Louis not far behind, just there to help out if need be. As he approaches the goal Liam brings his leg back, and with a powerful kick sends the ball flying easily past Niall in the goal box and crashing into the net.

“Yeah!” Louis woops, fists held high into the air above his head, “That’s how it’s done Liam! Way to go!”

Liam just shakes his head at him, jogging back towards the other end of field, but if Louis isn’t mistaken, he might have caught the tiniest hint of a smile twitch at the corners of Liam’s lips.

Louis glances over at Niall, who is smiling back at him widely, and giving him a thumbs up.

Coach Higgins blows the whistle at this point, and the team jogs into a huddle around him.

“Great hustle today lads,” he beams at them, “if we keep this kind of momentum up through the season, I think we’ll have a real chance at the play offs this year. Now, I’ve printed off a copy of this year’s game schedule for each of you to take home, and note that the first game is here this Friday. I know you guys will be ready by then. Now get the hell out of here and hit the showers, you boys are really starting to stink up the place.”

Light laughter filters around the group as they all make to grab a copy of the schedule and head back to the locker rooms.

Louis glances over the sheet of paper in his hands, his eyes falling on the game scheduled for this Friday.

“Shit,” he lets out under his breath.

“What’s up?” Niall asks from his right.

“Our first game is against my old school,” Louis replies, a bit in disbelief.

As Louis looks up from the schedule he notices some movement in the distance behind Niall’s head. A tall and slightly familiar looking figure suddenly disappears behind the bleachers. Louis narrows his eyes, tying to get a better look.

“Well,” Liam voice breaks through his thoughts, drawing his attention back to the conversation at hand, “I hope playing against your old teammates won’t affect your performance in the game.”

He’s staring hard at Louis, a challenge set in the serious furrow of his brows.

Louis shakes his head, laughing easily, “Not at all mate. I mean, it’ll be nice to see the guys again, sure, but that won’t stop me from completely kicking their arses.”

Liam just let’s out a humph, then proceeds off towards the locker rooms.

Louis watches him closely as he goes. “I will get him to like me if it kills me.”

“It just might,” Niall shrugs, chuckling fondly.

Niall throws his arm over Louis’ shoulder as they begin to walk off together, Louis glancing back towards the bleachers, but he sees no trace of the person he had spotted earlier.

After changing Niall and Louis make there way out of the locker room together and Louis notices Gemma perched up on the hood of her car in the parking lot, legs crossed beneath her and typing away on her cell.

When Niall’s eyes fall upon her, he quickly runs his hand threw his hair, a nervous energy suddenly falling over the usually friendly and relaxed Irishman. Louis decides not to mention it.

“What are you loitering about for?” Louis asks once they’re within earshot.

Gemma’s head snaps up at the sound of his voice, and Louis doesn’t miss the way her eyes quickly flick towards Niall before landing back on him.

“I just got out of yearbook, figured you’d need a lift home since I’m the one that brought your sorry arse to school today.”

“You are all heart, darling.”

“I know.” Gemma sighs, as if it is some great burden to her. She hops down from the car gracefully, flipping her long dark blonde hair over her shoulder before smiling sweetly at Niall. “Did you need a ride as well?”

“Oh,” Niall chokes, seeming a bit caught off guard that Gemma is addressing him, “thank you, but, um, I have my car.”

She nods at him, her eyes as bright as her smile, and he gives her a small smile in return. He seems about ready to change his mind and take her up on her offer, but then clears his throat and turns towards Louis, “I’ll see you tomorrow mate.”

“Yeah, see you.”

Gemma tilts her head slightly as she watches Niall walk off across parking lot, and when she turns her attention back to Louis he is wearing a knowing smirk across his face.

“Shut up.” She scowls.

“I didn’t say a word,” Louis remarks innocently.

“I swear to God Tomlinson, I will smother you in your sleep.”

Louis holds his hands up in surrender, backing away from her and then hoping into the passenger seat as Gemma goes for the driver side. Once Gemma closes the door Louis turns to her with a smile.

“It’s the accent, isn’t it?” he asks.

Gemma covers her face with her hands and groans loudly.

“If you say anything to him about this I will castrate you.” She warns.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. You're dirty little secret is safe with me.”

Gemma sticks her tongue out at him and then starts up the car as Louis glances around the empty parking lot. “Aren’t you going to wait for Harry?”

“Oh no, he doesn’t have any after school activities. He should have gone home hours ago.”

Louis closes his eyes, resting his head against the cool glass of the window. “Oh.”

*

 

Louis stares at his computer screen, waiting for Eleanor to come online. He checks the time again; 6:18. They had agreed to Skype at 6 o’clock, and Louis is still sitting here waiting on her, the three texts he’s sent her going unanswered.

He slowly spins around in his desk chair, staring down at his favorite scuffed up pair of Vans on his feet. He supposes he should be more annoyed, and he would be, if this were the first time something like this has happened. But Eleanor, despite all of her best intentions, has always been a pretty flakey girlfriend, and Louis has pretty much just accepted it by this point.

For the about the millionth time since he has arrived home, Harry wanders up to the front of Louis’ mind, and he doesn’t understand why Gemma’s little brother makes him feel so strange. He feels nervous around Harry, and is constantly wondering what the green eyed boy thinks of him, or when he’s suddenly going to pop up again. Louis cringes when he thinks of how many times he has already embarrassed himself in front of the younger lad.

Louis shakes his head, not wanting to go to far down that train of thought, and glances at his backpack lying on his bed, considering beginning the mountain of homework that's hiding within. Despite only being a few days into their senior year the teachers were not cutting them any sort of slack. He is just reaching for the mouse to log himself off when Eleanor’s contact changes to online and she begins to ring through. With a roll of his eyes he answers the call.

“Hi babe, I’m so sorry,” she rambles frantically, tucking her hair behind her ear, “study group ran a bit long and I guess I just lost track of time and-”

“It’s fine El.” Louis sighs.

She smiles brightly at him, her cheeks flushed. She looks so genuinely happy to see him that Louis can feel whatever annoyance he had towards her slowly slipping away into nothing.

“How has everything been going with you?” he asks.

He listens as she launches into a long story about her classes, what she wore to school that day, and a new study group that she has just joined. Then she moves on to the subject of cheerleading:

“And Kendall seems to think that just because her mother donated a bunch of money so that the squad could get new uniforms that she doesn’t have to do anything besides stand there and look pretty. She didn’t practice any of the new routines over the break and now everyone has to wait around for her to catch up and learn the cheers.”

Louis gives what he hopes is a sympathetic sounding hum and then says, “Speaking of cheerleading, have you gotten your game schedule yet?”

She furrows her eyebrows, a bit confused. “Yes. I have it in my binder, but I haven’t had a chance to look at it yet. Why?”

Louis smiles at her. “Your first game is here, this Friday.”

For a moment Eleanor just stares at him through the screen, blinking slowly. It’s interesting, Louis can tell the exact moment that it clicks behind her dark eyes, and then a slow smile spreads across her lovely face.

“I’ll get to see you this Friday.” She says quietly, like if she speaks the words too loudly it would suddenly make it not true.

“Yes babe,” Louis laughs fondly, “and I’d like for you to stay with me for the weekend after the game.”

Eleanor squeals loudly, hoping up and down slightly in her desk chair. “Yes! Yes! God, I’m so excited! It feels like I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Yeah,” Louis agrees, “I know exactly how you feel.”

“We’ll definitely have to make sure this weekends a special one,” Eleanor says, slowly twirling a strand of her long brown hair around her finger, staring at him with her large, innocent looking doe eyes, “I mean, who knows when we’ll get a chance to spend sometime together like this again?”

Louis smirks at her wickedly. “Well, we’ll just have to make the most of it then, won’t we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off a big thank you to everyone who read the first chapter! This is the first time I've ever posted any of my work online so the fact that people are reading it means so much to me. I'm really hoping to improve my writing skills so if you have any advice please feel free to leave a comment!
> 
> The first part of this chapter was so easy for me to write and then the last part was like pulling teeth haha. I rewrote it so many times but I'm still not sure how I feel about it... I hope you enjoy it though! And again thank you for reading :)


	3. Feelings Our Sober Minds Reject

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song "Hex Girlfriend" by Neon Indian

“Do you suppose if I have a brain aneurysm in the middle of class, McCoy would excuse me from the calc test tomorrow?” Louis asks, voice muffled by the textbook laying open across his face. He is sprawled out across Gemma’s bed on his back, feet crossed and resting on the top of the headboard.

“Only if it kills you,” Gemma replies, not looking up from the notes she is busy highlighting at her desk.

Louis groans loudly, turning onto his side and letting the textbook slip off his face and fall to the ground with a loud thud. “I’m going to fail.”

Gemma let’s out a hum of acknowledgment, but otherwise remains exactly as she is.

Louis curls up as small as he can possibly go, trying to suppress a yawn into the back of his hand. He could easily take a nap right now.

“Gemma,” Louis says, turning his head until he’s staring at her upside down, “I can’t study anymore, let’s take a break.”

She doesn’t respond, just keeps working away, and Louis can’t help but admire her discipline when it comes to her studies.

“Gem,” he whines, tossing his pencil at her but missing completely, “pay attention to me!”

After a few more moments of nothing but the sound of the highlighter squeaking across the page, he gets off the bed with an overdramatic sigh. “Fine. I’ll just go get myself a snack then. _Alone_.”

“Will you bring me back a Coke?” Gemma asks, suddenly swiveling around in her desk chair.

“Oh, so that’s what it takes to get you to acknowledge my existence?” Louis scoffs in mock offence.

Gemma gives him her best puppy-dog eyes and smiles brightly at him. “Pleeease? I’ll be your best friend.”

“You already are, you nutter,” Louis says, swatting at her ponytail before slipping out the door.

He pads down the stairs quietly in his sock covered feet, making his way into the kitchen. He pulls a mug from one of the cupboards, fills the kettle with water and sets it to boil, then makes his way over to the fridge and stares inside, trying to decide on something to eat.

There’s a loud crash from the front hall, and Louis’ eyes snap up just as Harry comes stumbling into the kitchen with a boy hanging from his back, their arms wrapped around his neck.

“Get off me you wanker,” Harry laughs, and Louis recognizes the other boy as the one with the dark hair that he had seen with Harry on the first day of school.

“Little Styles has a girlfriend,” the boy singsongs, pinching Harry’s cheek.

“Knock it off.” Harry manages to pry himself free, seeming far from annoyed, despite his best efforts, and just a tiny bit breathless.

He’s wearing a dark blue flannel only buttoned half way, black skinnies that make his already long legs look endless, with dirty white converse and a backwards snapback shoved a top his mess of curls. Louis’ face suddenly feels very warm.

Harry looks up then, his eyes meeting Louis’, and, as has become the norm in Harry’s presence, Louis feels as if the air has been stolen from his lungs.

“Oh hey,” he smiles brightly, his cheeks just the slightest shade of pink, “didn’t realize you were here.”

“Yeah, just taking a quick study break,” Louis replies, motioning towards the open fridge.

Harry nods knowingly, then glances at his friend. “You know Zayn?”

“The football player, yeah?” Zayn smirks, seeming rather amused as he slowly eyes Louis up and down. Louis nods, reaching up and tugging his beanie a little further down on his head, feeling self-conscious under the raven-haired boy’s intense gaze.

“I think I’ll go have a smoke.” Zayn raises his eyebrows at Harry, pulling a cigarette from behind his ear before disappearing from the room.

In his absence a heavy silence falls over the two of them, so Louis busies himself by turning his attention back towards the fridge, and grabbing the first thing he sees, which happens to be a yogurt. He nabs a spoon as well and plops up onto the counter, watching as Harry fishes another mug out for himself.

“So,” Louis says slowly, trying to make conversation, “you have a girlfriend, then?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “No, not even.”

“Then what was-“

“Zayn is just giving me shit cause Taylor asked me to go to Niall’s party with her tomorrow.”

“Ah.” Niall had decided to throw a big party at his house after the game in celebration of their win. Louis had told him he thought it rather premature to assume it’d be a victory party, but Niall had just smiled at him and laughed, “Then we’ll just drink until we think we’ve won.”

“Who’s Taylor?” Louis asks, still not knowing very many of the other students by name yet.

“Oh, she’s in your grade. Blonde hair, cheer captain, like, super tall.”

Louis nods. If it is the girl he is thinking of she is in his chemistry class. She is very pretty, Louis has to admit, but she always has this look on her face as if she smells something rotten.

“You said yes?” Louis assumes.

Harry shrugs. “Yeah, didn’t see why not. She seems like a pretty nice girl.”

The kettle whistles, and Harry pours the boiling water into their two mugs before returning his attention to Louis, stepping closer. Louis has a spoon full of yogurt half way to his lips when Harry reaches out and intercepts it, wrapping his long fingers gently around Louis’ wrist, guiding the spoon towards his own mouth. Louis feels his breath hitch as he watches Harry slowly pull the spoon out from between his lips.

“Mm, very yummy.” Harry says with a little sideways grin, and Louis seems unable to tear his eyes away from the dimple popping out of his left cheek.

“There you are.”

Harry flinches, letting go of Louis’ wrist quickly and stepping back, before looking over his shoulder at his sister who is standing in the doorway, arms crossed in front of her chest and an eyebrow arched.

“Thought you might have gotten lost,” she says, looking at Louis, “but now I see that my idiot baby brother has been holding you hostage.”

“I am only a year younger than you,” Harry pouts.

“A year and six months,” Gemma corrects, “practically an infant.”

A blush rushes up the side of Harry’s neck as he shoves his hands into his pockets, staring down at his feet.

“You know,” Gemma continues, walking towards the fridge, “it’s a good thing my parched state wasn’t life threating, or I’d most definitely be dead by now.”

“Sorry,” Louis mumbles, a bit flustered, as she grabs a Coke from the fridge, “I’ll be back up in a minute.”

“Sure you will.” She winks at him before spinning on her heel and disappearing back up stairs.

Silently Louis hops down from the counter, throwing the yogurt container away and setting the spoon in the sink as Harry gets their tea ready, picking up one of the steaming mugs and handing it to Louis.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, giving Harry a small smile before following in Gemma’s footsteps.

“Hey Louis,” Harry calls, once Louis has reached the bottom of the stairs. He glances back and sees Harry leaning against the kitchen counter, watching him, “In case I don’t see you before hand, good luck with the game tomorrow.”

Louis gives him a smile and a nod, then continues on up the stairs.

In the room Gemma has now moved to the bed, propped up against her pillows with a magazine laying open across her lap.

“Sorry if the gangly one was bothering you,” Gemma comments as she flips the page.

“Nah,” Louis shrugs, sitting down at the foot of the bed cross-legged, holding the warm mug with both hands, “he was just telling me about his date for Niall’s party tomorrow.”

Gemma wrinkles her nose at that.

“Nervous about tomorrow?” she asks, changing the subject.

“Excited mostly. Especially to see Eleanor.”

Gemma pauses, then looks up at Louis with a confused set to her brows. “Who’s Eleanor?”

Louis just blinks at her.

“Eleanor, my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” She repeats slowly.

“Yes, from back home. Surely I’ve mentioned her before?”

“No. You haven’t said a single word about having a girlfriend.”

Louis racks his brain, trying to go over every conversation he and Gemma have had over the past week. Perhaps Eleanor had just never come up before.

“Well I have,” Louis clarifies, “and she’s going to be at the game tomorrow, then she’s staying for the weekend.”

“Oh, but I thought…” Gemma trails off, still looking confused.

“What?” And then something clicks inside Louis’ brain. “Wait, you don’t… you don’t _like me,_ do you Gem?”

Gemma stares back at Louis blankly for a moment, before a loud cackle suddenly erupts from her lips. “Oh God, no!”

“Then what?” He asks, trying not to sound too much like she had just completely bruised his ego.

Gemma stops laughing suddenly, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, seeming to be, for the first time since Louis has known her, completely and utterly speechless.

“Never mind,” she says quickly, “you were right. I totally have a _massive_ crush on you. I’ve written ‘Mrs. Gemma Tomlinson’ on practically everything I own. You wanna make out?”

“Gemma.” Louis says calmly, not buying it for a second.

But she just shakes her head with a smile, bringing her hand to her lips and motioning that they are zipped up tight, before continuing to flip through her magazine.

*

 

The roar from the bleachers seems to drown out even the sound of Louis’ own heavy breathing as he stands on the field with his hands on his knees, waiting for the whistle to blow.

He glances over at Eleanor, whom he can see on the opposing side, waving her pompoms up in the air and smiling at him enthusiastically. On the other side of the field in the bleachers he notices his mother with Mark and his sisters, all clapping excitedly, looking so proud.

A few rows ahead of them, in the front, are Gemma, Harry, Zayn, and his purple-haired girlfriend, Perrie. While Perrie is smiling brightly at the spectacle before her, Zayn is tapping away at his cell, seeming entirely uninterested.

Louis can see that Gemma is shouting something, and he can just imagine the colorful string of curse words flying from her lips. And then there is Harry, jumping about like some sort of spaztic, long-limbed child, smiling so big it nearly splits his face in half.

Niall catches Louis’ eye from across the field, mouthing “no pressure” to him, before shaking his head with a laugh.

The game has been a close one so far, his former teammates giving them a run for their money, their captain, Greg, having made quite a few impressive goals. They are all tied up now, only a few minutes left on the clock, and Louis is ready to bring it home.

The shrill sound of the whistle cuts through the air and Louis takes off like a bullet. Liam has the ball, moving it down the field, but soon finds two members of the opposing team rushing towards him. Louis sprints forward until he is in the clear just in front of the goal.

Liam looks determined to try and make the shot himself, but Coach Higgins is screaming for him to pass, the vein in his neck nearly bursting open, so Liam begrudgingly sends the ball towards Louis.

It isn’t as if time slows down, like they say, but more like Louis has stepped outside the moment to watch it unfold before him, noticing every little detail. He can see Stan bouncing back and forth in front of the goal, trying to gauge which direction Louis’ kick is going to send the ball, and he knows, deep down, that he doesn’t stand a chance in hell.

As Louis’ foot connects with the ball, Stan takes a flying leap into the air, the two of them soaring towards each other, both trying to meet at a single destination at the same time. Louis holds his breath as the ball barely brushes the tips of Stan’s fingers, sailing past him and into the net.

Silence falls over the field and the audience, before erupting into an explosion of chaotic noise. Niall charges towards him, gripping him tightly around the waist and tossing Louis over his shoulder, a triumphant yell bellowing from his lips.

From upside down Louis catches a glimpse of Stan watching them. Though his eyes seem disappointed he smiles at his former teammate, and Louis smiles easily in return.

Niall runs with Louis towards the sidelines before plopping him down where he is immediately surrounded by teammates and fans a like, hugging him and patting him on the back, congratulating him on the winning kick.

He notices Liam, who is standing just off to his left, eyes narrowed. He lets out what sounds like a long suffering sigh, then gives Louis a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Nice shot,” he says, placing a hand firmly on Louis’ shoulder and squeezing slightly before disappearing into the crowd.

“Did you see that?” Louis asks in disbelief.

“That was almost like a hug,” Niall replies in awe.

“Louis!” Gemma calls, pushing her way towards him, Harry not far behind.

“Hey!” he says as she hugs him tightly.

“You were fucking amazing you little shit!” She shouts, earning a glare from a couple of the nearby parents.

“Awe, thanks love.” He laughs, releasing her. He glances up at Harry as Gemma takes a couple of steps back.

“You were bloody brilliant,” Harry says, so quietly that Louis has to lean forward to hear him properly. “Seriously, the best I’ve ever seen.”

Harry’s eyes are sparkling so brightly with something that looks like a mixture between awe and pride, and it sends a pleasant, warm sensation humming through Louis’ veins.

He begins to open his mouth to reply when Eleanor suddenly comes leaping out of the crowd towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting a large kiss upon his lips.

“Babe you were great, I’m so proud of you!” She squeals.

“Thanks,” he replies, a little bit dazed.

She releases him, backing away quickly, “Oh my God, you are so sweating and disgusting. Let’s head back to your place and get ready for the party, yeah?”

He looks around him trying to locate Gemma and Harry, but the two of them seem to have gotten lost in crowd.

“Yeah, okay.”

*

 

The party is already in full swing by the time Louis and Eleanor walk through Niall’s front door. The house is packed with sweaty bodies pressed close together, grinding against one another almost a bit frantically, trying to lose themselves within the bass that’s pounding out of the speakers all around them.

Eleanor is practically melting into Louis’ side, her hand in his, as she glances around at all the unfamiliar faces.

Niall rushes towards them out of the crowd, scooping Louis up into a bone-crushing hug, some how managing not to spill either of the drinks he is clutching tightly in his hands. When he steps back he’s wearing a lopsided grin, his cheeks flushed from alcohol. “Louis! And… girl with Louis! Welcome! Grabs some drinks from the kitchen and then meet me in the back room!”

Niall then shimmies off into the throngs of people, many girls reaching out to him, trying to pull him into a dance. He smiles at them brightly, shaking his hips about, but keeps moving onward.

In the kitchen the counters are completely covered with partially empty liquor bottles of every variety, many different types of mixers, large stacks of red solo cups and mostly empty crisp bags.

Standing near the sink is a girl with long and extremely curly dark hair that Louis recognizes from their cheerleading squad. She has a cup in one hand and a bottle of vodka clutched tight in the other as she stares, completely transfixed, at two girls pressed up against the fridge, attempting to devour each other’s faces.

“Enjoying the show?” Louis asks with a grin, reaching for a cup off the counter. The girl with the curls shakes her head, blinking a few times as she turns to face him.

“Oh, hey Louis,” she says brightly, returning to pouring the vodka into her drink, “great game tonight.”

“Sorry, have we met?” Louis asks, trying to not to sound like a complete arse.

“Not officially,” she laughs, “but I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Danielle, Liam’s girlfriend.”

“Oh God, please don’t believe a single word Liam has told you about me. He’s not exactly my biggest fan.”

“Hmm,” Danielle swirls the liquid around inside her cup before taking an experimental sip of it, “you’d be surprised.”

Danielle’s eyes flick past Louis, her smile widening. Louis glances to where Eleanor is hiding behind him, looking small and out of place.

“You were on the other team’s squad, right?” Danielle asks.

“Yeah,” Eleanor replies quietly.

“I thought your cheers were amazing!” Danielle exclaims excitedly, “So much more creative than the typical ‘go, fight, win’ bullshit.”

Eleanor smiles, the tension visibly leaving her shoulders. “Thanks. I spent a good majority of my summer working on the new routines. Barely even had a break really.”

“Your hard work totally shows. They were completely flawless!”

A pleased smile spreads across Eleanor’s face.

“Why don’t you ladies go talk cheer and I’ll get the drinks, yeah?” Louis offers, liking the idea of his girl and Liam’s becoming friends. Seems like it can only help him in his mission to get on Liam’s good side.

With a nod the girls link arms, chatting away happily as they head towards the back of the house. Once Louis is alone in the kitchen he sets to work on making drinks, accompanied only by the sounds of saliva slick lips working against each other as the two girls continued to maul one another on the other side of the room, completely oblivious to Louis’ presence.

He’s busy measuring out the perfect amount of tequila into his cup when a shadow falls across him. He turns to look up, but ends up pouring the tequila all over his hand and the counter.

“Shit,” he hisses, putting down the bottle and grabbing a nearby paper towel that he hopes is mostly clean.

“I think your bartending skills could use some improvement,” a familiar deep voice laughs from behind him.

“Not my fault you always feel the need to sneak up on me, Styles,” Louis replies, smiling over his shoulder at Harry, “It’s just a tad creepy.”

Harry shrugs. “I’m just trying to fulfill my fan club presidential duties. If it crosses a bit into stalker territory then so be it.”

Louis shoots him a fond smile, and he thinks he sees a slight blush cover Harry’s cheeks before he quickly looks down at his pigeon-toed feet.

“So I was curious,” Harry asks, glancing up at Louis through his lashes, “do you always have this affect on women?”

Louis raises an eyebrow at him, and Harry tilts his head towards the hormonally charged groping session still taking place against the fridge. By this point one of the girls and has removed her shirt, and only three hands seemed to be accounted for. Louis doesn’t think he really wants know where fourth hand has disappeared to.

Louis laughs loudly. “Normally no. I’ll try not to let this go to my head though.”

Harry grins, messing his hands through his curls to shake them out before pushing them back from his face.

Once he has his two drinks ready Harry places a hand at Louis' elbow and gently guides him to the room at the back of the house.

There is a large table placed in the middle with a game of beer pong set up on it, Liam and Zayn standing at one end and Niall and Gemma at the other. On the far wall is a long couch where Danielle, Eleanor and Perrie are perched, giggling cheerfully.

“Finally!” Niall exclaims once he spots them, “What the hell took you so long?”

“Sorry Ni,” Harry shrugs, “we got a tad distracted by Cara and Barbara. They are practically going at it right there in the middle of your kitchen.”

“What?” Niall asks, completely freezing.

“Tis true, such animals,” Louis tuts with a shake of his head as he walks over to Eleanor and hands her a drink. She gives him a quick thanks and then returns her attention to her conversation with the two other girls.

“Um, I’ll be right back!” Niall announces, practically tripping over his own feet in his mad dash towards the kitchen.

“But we’re in the middle of a game!” Gemma calls after him, but he is already long gone.

“Stupid, typical boys and their stupid fucking hormones,” Gemma mutters darkly into her cup before taking a large swig.

“No worries love,” Louis laughs, throwing an arm around her shoulder, “I’ll play with you and help to mend your broken heart.”

Gemma elbows him sharply in the ribs. Harry let’s out a bark of laughter but quickly slaps a hand over his mouth, mumbling something about misplacing his date and disappearing from the room as Gemma chucks a ping pong ball at him.

“Let’s get on with this, yeah?” Liam asks, retrieving the ball from the floor.

Maybe it’s the blind rage or natural skill, but Gemma sinks every ball she throws, and by the end of the game Liam and Zayn are both spectacularly drunk and utterly embarrassed at having their arses handed to them by girl.

“I swear she cheated,” Zayn mutters, “I don’t know how, but she did.”

“Stop whining Malik, it’s not very attractive,” Gemma quips, looking far too smug.

“I’m always attractive, thank you very much,” Zayn pouts, and a chorus of giggles erupts from the girls gathered on the couch.

Harry reappears in the doorway then, attempting to hold up a tall, skinny blonde that looks to have drank an entire liquor store by herself. She is definitely the girl from Louis’ chemistry class.

“Can she sit with you girls for a moment?” Harry asks, sounding a bit winded, as he brings her forward. Perrie nods and scoots over, patting the empty space beside her.

Harry sets her down gently. “Thanks. I’m gonna run and grab her a glass of water real quick. Can you keep an eye on her for me please?”

“Aye, aye captain,” Perrie replies with a salute.

He gives her a grateful smile before retreating to the kitchen.

“Awesome,” Gemma sighs from besides Louis, “another night where my brother gets stuck babysitting. He sure knows how to pick ‘em.”

"What do you mean-" Louis begins to ask when he is suddenly cut off by a loud screech echoing throughout the room, followed by, “You bitch!”

Louis turns to find both Eleanor and Taylor up on their feet, with fists grasped tight in each other’s hair, screaming and pulling at one another.

“What the hell?” Louis mutters, in shock.

Eleanor pulls with all her body weight, loosening Taylor’s grip on her hair and sending her flying across the beer pong table.

Gemma lets out a delighted cackle from beside him that pulls Louis from his shock and he quickly steps in front of Eleanor, blocking her way as she tries to charge forward.

“Babe, calm down,” he says, holding his hands up.

“That bitch threw a drink at me!” she snarls.

“It’s okay babe,” he continues, placing his hands lightly on her shoulders, “you’ve already kicked her arse for that, it’s done.”

Eleanor’s eyes meets his and the fire behind them slowly dims down and she nods.

“What the fuck Louis?”

Louis whips around to find that Harry has returned, helping a barely conscious Taylor to her feet, and glaring daggers at Louis and Eleanor.

“The girl can barely keep her eyes open and Eleanor starts a fight with her?” he snaps. “Real nice fucking company you keep!”

Louis can feel the heat rising to his cheeks. Harry has no right to be mad at him or Eleanor in this situation.

“She’s the one who started it, so you really have no room to talk!” Louis fires back, pointing an accusing finger towards the two of them.

“Yeah, well at least I’m not dating mine! What’s your excuse?”

An awkward silence blankets the room as everyone freezes, eyes glancing back and forth between the two boys, waiting to see what will happen next.

Louis can feel his hands shaking as he clenches them into tight fists at his sides. Eleanor places her hand lightly on his bicep and whispers, “Let’s just get out of here babe.”

Harry squares his shoulders back, daring Louis to say something.

“Fuck you Styles,” he spits out, grabbing Eleanor’s hand and spinning on his heel.

He pushes his way out of the house as quickly as he can, Eleanor close behind him, the cool night air stinging against the angry tears that remain unshed in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been moving a long with this piece much faster than I had expected, and I hope to keep the momentum up for all those who have been reading :)
> 
> This is the longest chapter so far, and surprisingly the easiest for 3me to write. It would have been posted days earlier had I not lost power at my house.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy, and thanks again for reading :)


	4. So Should We Speak Then, Keep It Between Friends?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song "Drunk" by Ed Sheeran.
> 
> WARNING:  
> Slight dub-con in this chapter. Nothing too severe, but it could possibly be triggering for some.

Louis stares up at the darkened ceiling of his bedroom, trying to get his breathing to regulate, even though it has been hours since he had stormed away from Niall’s house in a cloud of rage.

Just where the hell did Harry get off, speaking to them like that? It’s not like he had even been there when it happened, so he doesn’t fully know what had gone on. Louis _was_ there and still wasn’t entirely sure what had gone on. The only thing Eleanor gave in way of an explanation was something muttered about cheerleading rivalry.

“But Danielle wasn’t like that,” Louis had pointed out.

“Yeah, well Danielle is not a cunt,” Eleanor had replied simply.

Louis rolls over, burying his face into his pillow, and lets out a loud groan of frustration. The happiness of having Eleanor here and winning the game had all been taken from him in an instant, thanks to stupid Harry fucking Styles.

He wasn’t even his friend, just his friend’s little brother, so his opinion on Louis really shouldn’t mean that much to him. But for some reason it did.

Louis hears his bedroom door creak open slowly, and he sits up in bed to peer through the darkness towards it. He sees Eleanor standing there, in nothing but her knickers and a loose fitting tee.

“Hey babe,” she whispers, giving him a soft smile.

Louis lies back down, continuing his staring up at the ceiling. Even though his mother had insisted on Eleanor sleeping in the guest bedroom, he had known that she would eventually sneak in to see him, though if he was being quite honest, he was in such a mood that he would have preferred if she hadn’t.

She closes the door gently behind her before quietly tip toeing towards his bed, lifting the duvet and sliding underneath it along side him. She wraps her arms around his waist, snuggling in closer, and whispers in his ear, “It was so sexy the way you stood up for me tonight.”

Louis closes his eyes with a sigh, “Yeah.”

She slides her hand up under the light cotton of his tee shirt, gently tracing a finger along the soft patch of skin just above the waistband of his pants. “I’d love to show you just how much I appreciated it.”

“Um..."

“Shhh…” She whispers, tracing the tip of her nose along the column of his neck, “Let me take care of you.”

Louis let’s out a low hiss as her hand travels into the front of his pants, her warm fingers lightly circling around his length.

“I- I’m really, just- not in the mood for this right now,” Louis tries to explain, turning his head away from the light kisses Eleanor is trailing along his jaw line.

“I can get you in the mood,” she giggles, causing Louis’ jaw to clench.

Her hand is far too rough and dry as it moves back and forth along him, feeling more painful and annoying than anything else.

“El…” Louis warns, trying to shift away from her.

But she just picks up her pace, squeezing a bit too tightly, and Louis finds himself gripping his bed sheets tight at the uncomfortable sensation.

“Geez babe, you’re not really even getting hard,” she giggles.

“That’s because I said I’m not in the mood!” he snaps, grabbing her by the wrist and forcefully removing her hand from his pants.

Eleanor freezes, staring at Louis with wide, startled eyes. A long, tense filled moment passes before Louis releases her wrist and rolls over onto his side, facing away from her.

“It’s okay,” Eleanor says quietly, but it’s more to herself than it is to Louis, “it happens to guys all the time. Maybe you just had too much to drink tonight. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

Louis gives a grunt in reply, all too happy to use that as an excuse than to try and explain the hurricane of unknown emotions that are currently raging within him.

 “Well, I guess I better go back to my room then.” Louis feels her weight lift from the mattress, and after a moment of hesitation she leans over and gives him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“Goodnight.”

Louis gives no response, and soon he hears his bedroom door click shut, signaling that he is finally alone once more.

*

 

By the time Monday morning rolls around Louis is still in a foul mood. The remainder of his weekend with Eleanor had been awkward, both of them tip toeing around each other, trying to avoid any sort of conversation involving what had happened the night after the party.  By the time Louis had said his goodbyes to her at the bus station the previous night, he honestly felt nothing more than relief at her soon to be absence.

As he hits the snooze button for the third time that morning he decides that school just isn’t going to fucking happen today.

He heads downstairs to play the role of the ailing child (his few drama classes seem to be paying off quite nicely) and once his mother sends him back up stairs to his bedroom he sends a text to Gemma saying he won’t be needing a ride because he is sick.

He has just crawled back into bed when his phone vibrates with Gemma’s reply.

**PUSSY. Xx**

He tosses his phone back onto his nightstand and buries himself beneath his duvet, sleep soon reclaiming him.

He’s awoken at 11:30 by the doorbell. His sisters are all at school, and his mother and Mark are both working, so he can’t think of anyone who would be coming around at this hour.

“Maybe if I ignore them they will just go away,” he mumbles to himself, closing his eyes tight.

It rings a second time, and then a third. After that it is just a constant ring, as if who ever is outside is just holding their finger down upon the button.

Louis groans loudly in exasperation as he throws the duvet from his body and stomps his way down stairs.

“I’m fucking coming! Don’t get your knickers in a twist!” he shouts.

When he swings the door open the last person he expects to see standing on his front step is Harry Styles, but that’s exactly who it is. He’s fidgeting back and forth slightly, with an acoustic guitar slung over his shoulder, giving Louis a very tentative smile. Once the initial shock wears off, Louis schools his face into a look of closed off hostility.

“I am a massive twat.” Harry admits sheepishly.

Louis folds his arms across his chest, leaning against the doorframe. “I know.”

Harry worries his bottom lip, eyeing Louis nervously. “You weren’t at school today.”

“I say young Harold, nothing gets past you. Your deductions skills are truly astounding.” Louis cuts, eyes as hard like ice.

“That’s not my name.” Harry grins.

“I don’t care.”

Harry falters slightly. “Look Louis, I am trying to apologize.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “What’s it matter to you anyways? It’s not exactly like we are friends.”

“We… we aren’t?” Harry’s smile drops from his face completely, and he looks down at the pavement, taking a few steps back. “I mean… I thought we were.”

Though Louis is trying to hold onto his anger, he can’t help but feel like he’s just kicked a puppy. “Well, Gemma’s my friend, and you’re-“

“Just her little brother.” Harry concludes sadly. Louis wonders how someone so incredibly tall and lanky can suddenly look so small and vulnerable.

Despite his earlier, and perfectly justifiable, annoyance, Louis can’t help but feel that now he’s become the arse in this situation.

He unfolds his arms, scratching across his stomach awkwardly.

“Well, you and I… we haven’t exactly hung out that much, have we?” He reasons.

Harry pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, looking thoughtful. “Well, what are you doing now?”

“Being an utter delinquent and skipping school.”

“Excellent. I have a bit of an adventure planned for today, and you are more than welcome to tag along if you like. It’d be a perfect opportunity for some quality time together.”

The look Harry gives him is so hopeful that Louis just knows he would feel like a complete dickhead if he turned him down.

“Yeah, ok.” Louis relents with a sigh. “But this doesn’t mean I forgive you, Styles.”

“I didn’t think it did.” Harry replies, trying but failing to keep the stupid grin from splitting across his face.

“All right. Just let me change real quick.”

Harry’s brows furrow. “Why? You look fine.”

Louis glances down at himself in his faded X-men tee and loose fitting sweats before looking back up at Harry. “Ha, you're kidding me, right?”

“No seriously,” Harry says, tilting his head slightly as he looks Louis up and down, a soft smile playing at his lips, “you look very… cuddly.”

“I’ll be just a minute.” Louis says, turning quickly to try and hide the blush he can feel creeping across his face.

Louis scrambles up to his bedroom, grabbing a pair of ratty old Toms and a hoodie, then throwing a beanie on over his mess of bedhead hair. When he appears back at the door Harry gives him a relieved smile.

“Didn’t think I was coming back Styles?” Louis smirks.

“The thought had crossed my mind. Let’s go.”

Louis doesn’t ask questions, just follows Harry down the street to the nearest bus stop. They climb onto the bus in silence, Louis taking a seat near the back and Harry standing close by, trying to not hit the other patrons with his guitar, and humming happily.

Louis gazes out the window, watching as the suburban neighborhoods soon give way to store fronts and restaurants, forming downtown.

With a lurch the bus comes to a halt, causing Harry to loose his balance and to fall into Louis’s space, grabbing Louis’ shoulder for support, his legs pressing against Louis’ knees. Louis feels his muscles tense; his breathe catching in his throat.

“Sorry about that,” Harry laughs, righting himself, “This is our stop anyways, come on.”

They clamber off the bus and find themselves stood before a small Chinese restaurant; faded paint on the sign above and golden dragon statues standing guard on either side of the front door. The smell of orange chicken is heavy in the air, and with loud growl from his stomach Louis remembers that he has yet to eat anything today.

“Are you taking me out to lunch?” Louis asks hopefully.

Harry gives him a lop-sided grin. “Not this time I’m afraid.”

Louis pouts but Harry just slips his arm around his shoulders, blinding him with the full force of his dimples, and leads them towards the alley to the side of the restaurant. They stop about half way down at a door hidden into the wall, and Harry presses the buzzer next to a plaque that reads "Apt 2C."

After a few moments the door swings open. Standing in the doorway is a young man with the brightest mess of ginger hair Louis has seen in quite sometime. He has a huge smile plastered across his face and a vibrant array of tattoos all up and down his left arm.

“Harry!” He beams when he sees the curly haired lad, and then he notices Louis, “Eh, who’s your friend?”

“He isn’t. Not yet anyways. This is Louis. Louis, this is Ed.”

“Nice to meet you, not-Harry’s-friend,” Ed says, holding out his hand. Louis takes it, finding Ed’s smile contagious.

“Well come on in lads.”

They follow Ed up the two flights of stairs to the apartment door marked "2C." Inside is a decent sized living room with an exposed brink wall covered with polaroid pictures, a few guitars propped up in the corner, a couch, a recliner, and a coffee table.

“Make yourselves at home,” Ed says as he disappears into the kitchen.

Harry gently removes his guitar from his shoulders and places it down on the coffee table, before plopping down onto the couch.

“You heard the man,” he says, gesturing for Louis to take a seat next to him. He hesitates for only a moment, before sinking down onto the soft, worn cushion.

“So where exactly have you taken me?” Louis asks in a hush, glancing around the living room once more.

“Ed’s.” Harry replies with a shrug.

Louis rolls his eyes. “That bit I could have figured for myself.”

“Ed is kind of like… my teacher.”

“I prefer the term sensei,” Ed laughs as he emerges from the kitchen holding three beers.

“He’s been teaching me how to play the guitar,” Harry clarifies, taking two of the beers from Ed before passing one to Louis.

“So,” Louis says slowly, “just so I understand this, your idea of _quality time together_ is to take me to the house of some bloke I don’t even know, no offence-"

“None taken.”

 “-and get me day drunk while you sit around and play the guitar?”

Harry gives Louis big, hopeful eyes. “Um, yes?”

“Cheers.” Louis says before popping open the tab and taking a giant swig.

Ed’s smile reminds Louis of the Cheshire cat as he glances back and forth between him and Harry. “I ordered a pizza, hope you lads are hungry.”

Louis can hardly contain his excitement. “Famished! Though, you are aware that there’s a perfectly good Chinese place just down stairs, yeah?”

“You would be amazed at how quickly you can get tired of Chinese food.” Ed laughs as he plops down into the recliner.

They chat easily as they wait for the pizza to arrive, Ed managing to down three beers in that time span. Louis decides he quite likes Ed; he reminds him of a giant, cuddly teddy bear.

“So how did you two meet?” Louis asks once the pizza arrives, trying to remain patient and let it cool a bit, not wanting to suffer from third degree cheese burns.

“Harry came up to me after one of my gigs at a pub,” Ed explains with a laugh, “pretty much begged me to teach him how to play.”

“I can be very persuasive,” Harry muses, “it must be my natural charm.”

“Or perhaps the abundance of alcohol you kept supplying for me.” Ed points out.

“Same thing.”

“He was in awe of my skill. Actin’ like a right proper groupie he was.” Ed adds, poking Harry in the side who gives out an indignant squawk and swats his hand away.

“And what exactly are you doing in pubs, young Styles?” Louis asks, arching a brow in Harry’s direction.

“I have quite a few older friends,” Harrys shrugs, talking around a mouth full of pizza, “so I felt it necessary to acquire a fake ID. Since then pubs are no issue.”

“Well aren’t you just too cool?” Louis teases.

Harry goes to grab another slice, but Louis thinks he may see him biting back a smile, a light dusting of pink across his cheeks.

The pizza quickly disappears and another round of beers is distributed, before finally Harry and Ed take up their instruments. Louis leans back against the arm of the couch, feet tucked up underneath him, and quietly sips his beer as he watches Harry tune his guitar. His brows are furrowed and his bottom lip is pulled between his teeth as he concentrates upon the sound humming forth as his fingertips pluck against the strings.

They begin to work up a melody, something soft and slow and sweet. Louis closes his eyes, letting the notes swirl around him. He recognizes the song, some indie hipster shit he hears often on the radio. But then Harry begins to sing, and Louis’ eyes snap back open to stare at him.

Harry’s own eyes are closed, seeming to have forgotten the others present in the room as he belts out the words, his voice low and rumbling. His voice seems to flow over Louis smooth as honey, covering his skin and seeping in, nestling somewhere deep within his bones, and he is completely transfixed, unable to pull his eyes away from Harry’s singing form.

The song comes to an end, and the following silence seems heavy with electricity, almost like a single spark could set the room a blaze.

“That was great!” Ed says excitedly, “The best it has sounded yet. What’d you think Louis?”

Harry turns towards him, his face so open, his nerves clearing written over every stretch of skin, desperately seeking approval.

“It was great,” Louis manages a bit breathlessly, seeming to have lost the ability to blink.

Harry’s grin spreads wide across his face as he releases the breath he must have been holding, and Louis finally adverts his eyes, taking a long pull from his beer.

*

 

“Careful!” Louis calls as Harry stumbles off the side of the curb into the road. He throws his head back and laughs loudly, curls bouncing and eyes sparkling as Louis reaches out and grabs him by the forearm, pulling him back up onto the pavement next to him. Harry leans heavily into Louis’ side, taking a deep breath.

“What would I do without you?” He giggles.

“Get hit by a car, for sure.” Louis smirks, patting Harry on the shoulder a little more firmly that he had intended too. “You are a hazard to yourself and to others. Hazza. Haz. Hazzzz…”

Damn, he is drunk.

They’d spent the remainder of the afternoon at Ed’s, laughing and playing music, losing track of the number of beers they had consumed (it must have been a lot, considering at one point Harry had convinced Louis to sing along with him, and Louis _doesn’t_ sing, at least not anywhere other than his own shower. And certainly not somewhere where other people could possibly _hear_ him. But how was he supposed to resist an acoustic cover of Toxic? Would have been near impossible even if he had been sober).

So now here they are, far more intoxicated than either had originally planned, stumbling along the streets at dusk, trying to make their way back towards Louis’ house in one piece.

Harry wraps his mile long arms around Louis’ head, pulling him towards his chest so suddenly that they almost go toppling over into a parked car.

“I’m so happy you don’t hate me!” Harry exclaims into Louis’ hair. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me… I’m a massive twat, as you know… but Taylor was hardly even vertical… regardless, she is really not as nice as I thought… I don’t know, I am just so, so sorry Louis. Please forgive me?”

“Calm down Curly, you have already been forgiven,” Louis laughs as he tries to wiggle free. They are only two houses down from his house at this point.

“Good.” Harry relaxes his grip on Louis, stepping back to smile down at him. “So, now that I’ve gotten you spectacularly drunk, would you consider me to be your friend?”

Louis pretends to consider this for a moment, noticing the way Harry watches him closely, eyes glassy and large. “Hmm, I suppose so, yes.”

Harry’s face instantly lights up before quickly turning into a pout.

“But you still like Gemma better than me, don’t you?” He accuses.

Louis can’t help but bark out a laugh at that.

“Oh, absolutely.” He places his hand on his chest and stares up at the sky with a dreamy expression placed upon his features. “She is the number one Styles in my heart.”

“Damn.” Harry looks very much like a giant toddler who has just had their toy stolen before he shrugs, smile returning. “Oh well, guess I’ve got nowhere to go from here but up.”

“Very true,” Louis agrees as they reach the end of his drive.

He turns to face Harry, who has some how managed to gather himself into an up right position, no longer relying on Louis for support, though he’s still a tad wobbly.

“Do you want me to call you a cab or something?” Louis offers.

Harry shakes his head forcefully. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m a big boy, Tomlinson. I can take care of myself.”

“If you say so Curly.”

Harry smiles dopily at Louis for a long moment before finally muttering, “See you at school.”

And with that he turns and walks off into the darkening night, humming something that sounds suspiciously like Britney Spear’s “Toxic.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> List of things that kept me for getting this chapter up sooner:
> 
> -Helping my grandma move  
> -Math homework (blah)  
> -Helping to plan a surprise party  
> -Writer's block about half way through  
> -Becoming completely obsessed with another fic (I'll add the link here because it was just amazing and everyone should go read it).
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/838537/chapters/1597776
> 
> Anyways, sorry about the wait and hope you all enjoy. I love you beyond words ;)


	5. All These Love Affairs Where No One Cares Enough For Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song "Love Me or Leave Me" by Kerli

A lot has changed in the last two weeks.

As Louis walks down the hallways at school the whispers that follow him are no longer about the “new kid” or “Gemma’s friend,” but are now of “Louis, the football star.” Though “star” seems like a bit of a stretch to him, it is nice to think that his fellow students hold such positive opinions about him.

They treat him a bit differently now as well. People are constantly coming up to him, wanting to know his thoughts on certain subjects or trying to invite him to their parties. Suddenly everybody wants to be his friend. Although he loves all the attention he does find it to be quite exhausting.

“How do you deal with this all the time?” he asks Gemma one day.

“Just smile and nod,” she replies with a shrug, “if you actually try to pay full attention to everyone you’ll end up wanting to shoot yourself.”

They are sitting at their usual bench out in the courtyard, enjoying the cool autumn breeze that is sweeping over them. Louis is staring off into the distance while Gemma pours over her spreadsheets of the budgets for the Homecoming dance.

“Do you plan on leaving me now that you’re all ‘Mr. Popularity?’” Gemma asks suddenly, not looking up from her paperwork.

Louis turns to face her, studying her profile, and smiles gently. He is completely enamored with this girl, what with her quick wit and sharp personality.

“I wouldn’t dream of it love,” he replies, throwing an arm over her shoulder. She doesn’t respond, but Louis doesn’t miss the way her lips quirk up into a soft smile.

“Hey mate.”

Louis glances up and sees Niall walking towards them, trademark grin spread wide across his face. He plops down next to Louis, pulling a sandwich, a large bag of crisps and a banana from his bag.

“Did you need something?” Gemma asks, leaning forward to raise an eyebrow at him.

“Not really,” Niall shrugs, completely unbothered, before launching into a conversation with Louis about their up coming game.

Gemma scowls and Louis tries hard to suppress a laugh. Niall joins them for lunch everyday after that, and Gemma continues to pretend like she absolutely hates it.

“You know you love it,” Louis teases her on their way to drama, “you’re just still bent out of shape because he ditched your beer pong game.”

Gemma shoves him against the lockers and continues walking.

“Don’t blame me for you’re sexual frustrations!” he calls after her.

A couple of times Harry has joined them for lunch as well, which Gemma loves; teasing her younger brother providing a the perfect distraction from the Irishman she is trying so hard to ignore.

“I just think it’s adorable really, this little bromance crush you’ve developed on my bestie,” she muses, wicked gleam in her eye.

“Jealousy is not a good look for you Gem,” Harry laughs, though the way he ducks his head down betrays his otherwise cool demeanor.

Though Louis and Gemma are pretty inseparable, Harry and him have spent a lot more time together. Besides the occasional lunches, Harry has also joined the two of them during their study sessions, and Louis has accompanied Harry back to Ed’s a few more times. Louis really likes Ed, and not just because he so willing to share his seeming endless supply of alcohol.

There have been times at school that Louis can feel Harry’s eyes on him, and will look up to find him staring from the opposite end of the hall. Louis will shoot him the most ridiculous face he can pull, and he’ll see Harry laugh, and though he is too far away to hear it, he can almost imagine the sound of it, low and rumbling, and it makes Louis grin widely.

Harry and Gemma have become quite the support team for him, showing up to his next two games and giving the cheerleaders a real run for their money. Though the wins themselves have been amazing, they are nothing compared to the beaming faces that the Styles siblings give him at the end of each game.

The so far successful season has loosened Liam up a bit, and at practices he spends a lot of time talking to Louis about the other players and what he believes their weaknesses are so that they can focus on improving them more before the next game.

Louis has a hard time taking it as seriously as Liam does, but he understand that Liam is making an effort, so he tries to focus and keep his smart arse comments to a minimum. Which is easier said than done when Coach Higgins gets into one of his many famous rants.

“Mind your blood pressure,” Louis mumbles to Niall, and the two of them nearly jump out of their skin when Liam laughs loudly from behind them, his eyes all squinty as he pats Louis on the shoulder.

“Good one,” he says before walking away.

“I didn’t even know Liam knew how to laugh,” Niall admits as Louis stares after Liam in disbelief, “it’s a bit terrifying to be honest.”

“I knew I’d get him eventually,” Louis replies with a smirk, “I am irresistible.”

Niall rolls his eyes.

After practice, Louis finds Gemma outside the locker room, having a chat with Danielle as Harry stands awkwardly to the side of them.

“Hey,” Harry lights up once he sees Louis.

“What are you still doing here Haz?” Louis asks as he walks up to him.

“Detention,” Harry shrugs, “got to keep up my bad boy imagine, you know?”

“You rebel you.” Louis replies fondly.

They smile at each other for a moment before Louis realizes that Danielle is speaking to him.

“I’m sorry, what?” he asks.

“I was just wondering if you knew how the tournament went?” she repeats with a smile.

After seeing the confused look on Louis’ face she continues, “You know, the cheer tournament Eleanor went to this weekend? I was just wondering if you know how she did. I know that she was really nervous about it.”

“You guys talk?” Louis asks, surprised.

“She added me on Facebook after the party, so we talk every once in a while,” Danielle confirms.

“Oh. Well, no. She hasn’t said anything about it to me.” Louis confesses.

“I’ll have to send her a message when I get home then.”

“Yeah.”

Louis can feel his face form into a frown. The whole time that he had been busying adjusting to his new life here and his new friends he had been trying to ignore the fact that he and Eleanor have not actually spoken to each other since she left his house two weeks ago. And though it should bother him that his girlfriend had made no effort what so ever to talk to him in that period of time, he can’t really place any blame on her because he himself has made zero effort to speak to her as well.

“You okay Lou?” Harry asks suddenly, looking concerned.

“Yeah, sure. Perfect in fact.” Louis lies, forcing a smile.

*

 

“What’s the matter with you?” Lottie asks as she walks into the living room to find Louis laying face down on the couch.

Louis turns his head to look up at her. “I am conflicted.”

“Scoot,” she says, tapping him on the foot. Louis sits up slowly, and she plops down next to him on the couch. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

Louis stares at his little sister, who is still in her school uniform and chewing her gum rather loudly, wondering if he should even bothering trying to explain what’s wrong with him, but then decides _fuck it._

“Things are… weird, with Eleanor,” he admits as she pops her gum.

“Ah,” she says, not sounding the least bit surprised, “would you like me to be honest with you?”

“Sure,” Louis replies, amused.

“Well,” Lottie begins, playing with the end of her long, blonde ponytail, looking for split ends, “I like Eleanor and everything, but I never thought you guys would last, even before we knew we were going to move. I just didn’t see it.”

“How come you never said anything before?” Louis inquires, surprised.

Lottie shrugs. “I’m twelve. Would you really have listened to me?”

“I suppose not.”

She gives him a smug look. “Exactly. Now let me ask you this: you like it here, right? Things are going well for you?”

“Yes.”

“Well then,” she says slowly, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world, “that seems like what you should be focusing on, doesn’t it? Maybe you need to cut ties with your old life before you can fully enjoy your new one.”

“Okay, shut up. You’re starting to sound smarter than me and I don’t like it.” Louis chuckles as he shakes his head.

“Starting?” she laughs, then quickly makes a mad dash from the room as Louis tosses a decorative throw pillow at her.

Once he is alone again, surrounded by nothing but his own thoughts he feels a bit restless, a slow panic creeping into his veins. The room is too hot, and he finds himself fleeing the living room and walking out the front door.

The cool evening air licks across his hot skin, and his breathing slows back to a normal pace as he stares up at the darkening sky, the stars just barely coming into view.

He takes a deep breath then pulls out his phone.

Louis listens as it continues to ring, thinking that it will go to voicemail, when he finally hears Eleanor’s voice from the other end, sounding so small and far away. “Hello?”

“Hey.” Louis replies, barely able to speak above a whisper.

“Hey.” She echoes after a long pause.

Louis bites his lip, rubbing his hand over his face and up into his hair. When did things become so awkward between the two of them? He tries to gather his thoughts, put into words what he wants to say, but he’s at a loss.

“I know why you’re calling,” Eleanor says eventually, breaking through Louis’ inner turmoil.

“You do?” He asks, cringing slightly.

Eleanor let’s out a long sigh. “Things just aren’t working anymore, are they?”

“No,” Louis admits, looking down at his feet, “I suppose they aren’t.”

It’s quiet for a long time, and Louis begins to wonder if perhaps she has hung up on him (he really wouldn’t blame her if she had), but then she laughs a bit, and it is such a sad and humorless sound, that Louis’ heart tightens in his chest.

“I’m so sorry,” Louis says quickly, wishing she were actually there in front of him. He hates not doing this in person, not being there to comfort her. He feels like such a fucking coward.

“Don’t be,” she replies just as quickly, “it's probably all for the best anyways. But Louis? I just want you to know that I really do care about you so much, and I want you to be happy.”

“Me too El, and I’m sorry that I’m not the one that can do that for you.”

“Same.”

Another silence falls, so many words left unsaid swirling between them.

“Goodbye Louis.” Eleanor finally says softly.

“Goodbye.” Louis replies, and waits until he hears the click on her end before taking the phone away from his ear.

He stares at her contact on the screen, feeling like he is drowning, suffocating. Without even thinking about it he begins to walk off down the street, his pace quick, trying to keep a step ahead of the emotions that threaten to consume him.

His mind is too preoccupied to pay attention to where he is going, but he can’t say that he’s really surprised when he finds himself standing on a familiar doorstep. He knocks loudly twice.

“Hey!” Gemma says happily as she swings the door open, but her smile soon falls as she gets a good look at Louis’ face.

“Oh God,” she says, “You didn’t kill anyone did you?”

Without a word he steps forward, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face into the crook of her neck.

“Hey now,” she stammers, cautiously placing a hand on his back and rubbing it in soothing circles, “you’re freaking me out a bit here. Come on in and tell me about it, yeah?”

Gemma makes them both a cup of tea and then they head up to her room. Celebrity Big Brother is muted on the telly in the background as Gemma sits with her back against the headboard of her bed, Louis lying pressed against her side with his arms around her waist and his head in her lap. She runs her fingers through his feather soft hair, lightly messaging his scalp as she waits for him to speak.

“Eleanor and I broke up,” he says quietly after a long moment, but his words still feel too loud in the otherwise silent room.

Gemma lets out a low hum, but doesn’t respond further, waiting for Louis to continue as she keeps up the gentle hand through his hair. 

“It was the right thing to do,” Louis says, though he doesn’t sound entirely convinced, “we haven’t been close for a while now, and we each have are own lives and it’s difficult to make time to see each other. At the same time though… I’ll miss her. I _do_ miss her. But I’m the one made the decision, right? So I really have no right to feel this way, do I?”

He feels an ache at the back of his throat as he tries to keep the tears that have built up from falling.

“Just because something is the right thing to do,” Gemma says softly, “doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt. It’s okay to be sad about it.”

Louis nods slowly, closing his eyes, and soon he is lulled to sleep by the sound of Gemma’s soft breaths and gentle touches.

He’s not sure how long he has been out when a loud clearing of a throat breaks through his subconscious, followed by Gemma’s hissed whisper, “He’s asleep, what do you want?”

Louis blinks his eyes open slowly, his vision blurred, but soon he can make out Harry standing in Gemma’s doorway, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Mom called,” he says, his brow furrowing slightly as he talks to his sister, “her and Robin are going out to eat so we are on our own for dinner. I just wanted to know if Thai take out sounded good to you.”

Gemma nods, and Harry’s eyes then move towards Louis, the corners of his mouth turning down ever so slightly once he sees that he’s awake.

“Will you be staying for dinner?” he asks flatly.

Louis opens his mouth to answer, but a yawn escapes him instead.

“Of course he is,” Gemma supplies for him.

Harry gives a small nod then disappears without another word.

About thirty minutes later the three of them are gathered around the kitchen table, eating their dinners as Gemma chatters on animatedly about the up coming Homecoming dance. She has spent so much of her spare time over the last few weeks making sure that everything for it will be perfect, and now that everything is done and ready she finally can stop stressing and start getting excited for it.

Louis nods along at all the appropriate moments, but he can’t help but watch Harry, who is staring down at his noodles as he eats, shoulders tense and remaining unusually quiet.

“You know,” Gemma says, placing a hand on Louis’ shoulder and drawing his attention away from Harry, “since we won’t have dates you and I should go together. I think it’d be fun, yeah?”

Louis smiles at her fondly, “Yeah. Absolutely.”

With a loud screech as the chair slides across the floor, Harry stands up suddenly, walking his empty food containers to the trash before quickly leaving the room without uttering a single word.

Louis stares after him, completely perplexed by Harry’s odd behavior.

“We should probably color coordinate,” Gemma muses, seemingly oblivious to it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a bit short and a bit shit. It's mostly just a lot of filler. A lot more will be happening in the next one though, I promise.
> 
> Thanks for reading, enjoy and I love you all :)


	6. The Lights Are Out And The Dance Floor's Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song "Keeping Up With the Joneses" by The Medic Droid

Louis stares at his reflection in the mirror, unable to stop fussing over his appearance. He isn’t overly done up, just a simple black blazer over a white V-neck tee, his tightest pair of black skinnies rolled up at the ankles, and bran new pair of black low-top Chuck Taylors.

He had attempted to style his hair up into a quiff, but it turned out a bit messy and he isn’t sure how he feels about it. Glancing at his phone though tells him there is no time left to change it now.

With a sigh he heads down stairs to the living room, where his family is gathered around watching something on the telly.

“Well,” he says, drawing their attention, “final verdict?”

Lottie whistles, low and long.

“Thought this wasn’t a real date?” Fizzy asks with a mischievous grin.

“It’s not,” Louis confirms, “but that doesn’t mean that I can’t look good, does it?”

“I think you look pretty Lou,” Daisy pipes up.

“Thank you love,” he beams at his little sister.

His mother gets up from the couch and straightens out the lapels of his jacket. “Nervous?”

“Self-conscious,” Louis corrects, “the dance itself should be fun I think.”

“Well I wouldn’t worry love, you look very handsome,” Jay fawns over her only son, “Did you need a ride over there?”

Louis shakes his head, then tilts it to the side with a smile. “You know, if I had my own car, I could drive myself over there.”

“And if pigs had wings, they could fly,” Jay replies with a smirk, placing a kiss on Louis’ cheek, “Have fun love. And be good.”

“I make no promises,” Louis laughs as he heads out the door.

He walks briskly over to Gemma's house, making it in record time, knocking on the front door, where he is soon greeted by a very smiley Anne.

“Louis dear!” she exclaims, wrapping him up in a tight hug, “Well don’t you look handsome? Come on in, I’m afraid Gemma isn’t quite ready yet, but you know how girls are.”

Louis smiles brightly at her and steps inside. A phone rings somewhere in the distance and Anne quickly excuses herself, running off to answer it. Louis turns to the mirror by the front door, once again fussing with his hair. He hears a creak on the stairs behind him, and turns around expecting to see Gemma there but instead finds Harry.

He is at the bottom of the stairs wearing nothing but a pair of sleep pants that sit rather low on his hips, and a towel slung over his shoulders, his hair still dripping slightly from the shower. His eyes are wide as he stares back at Louis.

“Hello Curly,” Louis laughs, “perhaps you should take a picture?”

“Sorry,” Harry blinks, shaking his head, “it’s just you look very… wow.”

Louis tries not to look as pleased as he feels. “Very eloquent, Haz, but thanks.”

Louis takes in the expanses of Harry’s clean, glistening skin, noticing a cluster of tattoos on his upper left arm (how has he never spotted those before?) and the rather defined muscles of his chest and abs.

Louis swallows audibly before saying, “A bit under dressed, don’t you think?”

“Oh, no. I’m not going to the dance actually,” Harry admits, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Couldn’t get a date?” Louis guesses.

“No,” Harry narrows his eyes at him, “I have a date. We just aren’t going to the dance.”

“Why not?” Louis asks, curious.

“They’re older.” Harry shrugs.

“It better not be Caroline,” comes Gemma’s voice from the top of the stairs.

Louis looks up at her as she glares down at her brother. She is wearing a very simple, yet elegant black cocktail dress with black strappy heels, her long hair waved, with half of it pinned up in the back with a white orchid.

“Babe, you look stunning,” Louis comments as she descends the stairs.

“I know,” she says, her eyes never leaving Harry, “Now answer me H, is it that bitch?”

“No,” Harry huffs, pushing his damp curls back from his face, clearly frustrated, “you pretty much ran her out of the country, didn’t you?”

Gemma narrows her eyes at him and he rolls his in return, pushing past her on his way back up the stairs. Once they hear his bedroom door slam Gemma turns her attention to Louis.

“Whoa there, Tomlinson,” she smiles, “looking hot.”

“I know.” Louis echoes.

She wiggles her eyebrows at him. “Am I going to get lucky tonight?”

“Possibly.” He wiggles his in return.

Anne returns then, gushing over how adorable they look together. She insists upon taking at least twenty pictures before Gemma says, “Mom please, I spent all that time setting up this dance, I would at least like to go enjoy some of it.”

“Okay, okay,” Anne smiles, “have fun you two.”

Once they are in Gemma’s car Louis turns to her, his curiosity getting the better of him, “Who is Caroline?”

Gemma wrinkles her nose, “She’s the bitch that took my brother’s virginity.”

Louis raises his eyebrows in surprise. “I take it she is older then?”

“She was twenty,” she replies.

Louis shrugs. “That’s not too bad.”

“He was fourteen at the time,” Gemma snarls.

“Oh.”

“He was a child,” she continues to rant, “and she was a fucking adult. She knew better. I told her I was gonna kick the living shit out of her perfectly manicured arse, and then next thing you know she’s off to some internship in New York City. Stupid bitch was too much of a pussy to face me like a real woman.”

Once over his initial shock Louis smiles at her. “Well who could blame her? You’re bloody terrifying.”

Gemma beams proudly at that.

"Well," Gemma continues as she puts her car into park, "let's just say that if she does ever decide to come back that there's no where she can fucking hide where I won't find her."

Louis chuckles loudly, shaking his head fondly.

When they enter the gym Louis is taken aback by beauty of it. Rows and rows of jar lights hang from the ceiling at different heights, all the glass of the jars tinted different colors, covering the dance floor in a pool of soft rainbowed light.

“Do you like it?” Gemma asks nervously.

“This is amazing,” Louis nods, “The most my old school ever did was a few balloons and streamers.”

Gemma grimaces. “Ew, I don’t do streamers.”

Gemma takes Louis’ hand and pulls him out to the middle of the dance floor, and he twirls her around to the Ke$ha song that is blasting out all around them. Louis jumps around, singing along at the top of his lungs though he knows no one can really hear him, and Gemma laughs loudly, clapping her hands and swaying along to the music.

Soon some of their other friends like Zayn, Perrie, Niall, Liam and Danielle gather around them, and they all dance together in a large group, everyone in near stitches as Niall and Danielle start a vogue battle.

After a few more songs the up-tempo beat quickly changes to a slow song, and everyone pairs off with their dates for the slow dance. Louis places his hands gently on Gemma’s hips while she places hers lightly on his shoulders. Her face is turned away slightly, staring off intently just a few feet away from them. Louis follows her gaze and sees Niall dancing with some red headed girl that Louis doesn’t recognize.

“You should just tell him,” Louis says.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Gemma replies, frowning. She doesn’t take her eyes away from Niall.

“I’m fairly certain he likes you too,” Louis continues, “If you just said something to him I’m sure it would work out.”

“ _You_ have no idea what you’re talking about,” Gemma mumbles, getting flustered.

“Fine then, if you aren’t going to do anything about it will you at least pay a little bit more attention to me then? I am your date after all.” Louis pouts.

Gemma rolls her eyes. “Oh please. Like you even need me here. You’ve been eye fucked by practically every girl here tonight. You could easily take one of them home if you wanted to.”

“Really?” Louis asks, glancing around the dance floor. Sure enough, he sees quite a few girls staring at him over the shoulders of their dates. One even winks at him and mouths “call me.”

“Well then.” He mumbles, cheeks burning.

“You’re a babe Lou, own it.” Gemma smirks proudly.

“Hey guys,” Perrie says, leaning over from where she is dancing nearby with Zayn, “party at my house after, yeah?”

“We’ll be there,” Gemma says as Louis nods in agreement.

*

 

Perrie’s house isn’t terribly big, and right now it’s packed wall to wall with sweaty bodies. Despite his best efforts Louis can’t seem to get a proper buzz going, and his arse has been grabbed one too many times for his liking. He's been looking for Gemma for a good half hour to see if she wants to leave but with no luck and he is more than over it. He pushes his way through the crowd to get out onto the back porch for some fresh air.

The porch appears at first to be unoccupied, but once Louis’ ears stop ringing from the pounding bass line inside he hears a rustling and a slight moan from behind him. He turns and has to slap his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

Gemma has Niall pressed up against the side of the house, lips working furiously against his, her hands in his hair. Niall has his arms wrapped firmly around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer.

Louis leans against the railing of the porch, arms folded across his chest, and smirks, “Well, well, you dirty little sluts.”

Gemma freezes, and Louis can just barley hear her mumble a soft “shit” under her breath.

“Hey Louis,” Niall says dazedly over her shoulder, his eyes looking a tad unfocused and his swollen, red lip spread into a victorious grin.

“Hey Niall,” Louis laughs, “How’s my date?”

Niall gently presses his forehead to Gemma’s, gazing into her eyes, “Pretty un-fucking-believable.”

Louis is far too pleased. “This is so sweet I may just vomit.”

Gemma shoots a glare over her shoulder at him, “Will you kindly go the fuck away now? You’re ruining the moment.”

Louis smiles, eyes crinkling. “Not a chance, I feel like a giant ‘I told you so’ is due and I’m here to cash in.”

“Can’t you just hold onto your gloating until tomorrow? I'll let you be as big of twat as you want.” she tries again.

At that moment Zayn steps out onto the porch from inside the house.

“Are fucking kidding me?!” Gemma groans in frustration, burying her face into Niall’s chest.

“What the hell did I do?” Zayn shrugs confusedly, unlit cigarette hanging from his lips.

“Apparently the love birds need some alone time,” Louis says, spinning Zayn around and pushing him back into the house, “Don’t think this means I am finished with you, Styles.”

Gemma flips him off as Niall lets out a booming laugh.

Louis continues to push Zayn all the way through the house until they make it out the front door.

“Fuck, too many people,” Zayn mumbles as he flicks his lighter and lights his cigarette.

“Agreed. Think I’m actually gonna head home,” Louis says, gesturing down the street and walking backwards down the front path.

“I’ll walk you,” Zayn says, catching up to him.

“Such a gentleman,” Louis sighs fondly, “but I’m fairly certain I can handle it on my own.”

“Fuck you,” Zayn smirks, “I’m just looking for an excuse to get away from that mess for a while.”

“Well, if you insist,” Louis says and Zayn laughs, a soft and low chuckle that is mostly made up of smoke.

“So I take it there isn’t actually anything going on between you and Gemma then?” Zayn asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“My love for that girl is strictly platonic,” Louis confirms.

“Thought so.”

Zayn puts out his finished cigarette on the pavement, then pulls out his pack, fishing out a joint hidden amongst the regular smokes.

“Want some?” he offers as he brings it to his lips, flicking his lighter once more.

“Sure.”

Zayn passes the joint to Louis and he brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. The bitter smoke curls inside his lungs, tickling the back of his throat, and he holds it in as long as possible before releasing it in a choking cough.

“Fuck,” Louis sputters.

They walk in silence for a while, passing the joint back and forth. Louis can feel the edges of his subconscious begin to get hazy, a pleasant and warm weight to his limbs. He smiles dopily to himself, loving the feel of the cool night air against his skin, Zayn’s quiet presence at his side and the way the stars and the town lights twinkle happily. A content little giggle escapes his lips.

“I really love this place,” he admits, mostly to himself, but Zayn still gives him a small smile in response.

“Hey,” Zayn says suddenly as his eyes face forward again, “isn’t that Harry?”

Louis follows Zayn’s line of sight and sure enough there he is, standing on the curb in front of a club, eyes fixed upon the on coming traffic before him.

“Oi, Styles!” Zayn yells as they get closer, and Harry swings around, eyes searching until they land upon them, a surprised set to his lips.

“Hey,” he replies slowly, and Louis recognizes the slight intoxicated glint in his eyes and pink tint to his cheeks, his curls a bit damp with sweat, “what are you two doing here?”

“Going home,” Louis says as he exhales his final drag, tossing the remainder of the joint to the pavement and stomping out the cherry with his foot.

“Where’s Gemma?” Harry asks, brows furrowing in concern.

Louis shrugs. “At this point she’s probably held up in a room somewhere at Perrie’s with Niall.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Harry asks, watching Louis closely, “She was your date after all.”

Louis throws his head back with laughter, “Pretty sure if I got in the way of Gemma’s pursuit of Niall she’d kill me. Besides, her and I only went together as mates.”

“Told you,” Zayn smirks at Harry, lighting another cigarette. Louis looks back and forth between the two of them, confused.

Harry looks down at his feet. “Oh. I thought, well… I thought you two had started dating.”

“Nope,” Louis confirms.

“Our little Louis is free as a bird,” Zayn singsongs, wrapping an arm around Louis’ shoulder and raising an eyebrow at Harry.

“Right,” Harry says slowly.

“Styles!” A voice calls from the club entrance, and out stumbles a tall and lanky young man, with a giant, floppy quiff that nearly puts Zayn’s to shame with its height. He wraps an arm around Harry’s waist and places a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “Thought you came out here to get us a cab, not chat up some adorable little twinks.”

Harry’s face turns about three shades of red as he stammers, “Nick, these are some of my friends from school, Zayn, and Louis.”

“Hey,” Zayn says with a nod as Louis just stares at Nick.

Nick looks them both up and down, a smirk twisting his features. “Looks like I need to go back to high school. None of my friends ever had a bum like that,” he says, staring pointedly at Louis.

Louis glares at Nick and Harry takes a step away from him, looking back out into traffic and holding his hand high above his head, trying to flag down a cab.

“Having a goodnight mate?” Zayn asks, attempting some small talk.

Nick’s eyes don’t leave Louis as he answers, “The best. Harry here is a proper gentleman.”

A cab pulls up then and Harry opens the back door before turning to Nick. “Let’s go,” he says, keeping his eyes on the ground.

“Later lads!” Nick says cheerfully over his shoulder as he scrambles into the back seat. Harry’s eyes only meet Louis’ briefly before he looks back down, climbing into the car after Nick and slamming the door shut.

“What the fuck was that?” Louis asks as the cab drives away, feeling his eyes go wide.

Zayn chuckles, pulling on Louis a tad until he starts walking again, “Sometimes I forget how new you are.”

“What does that mean?” Louis demands.

Zayn just shrugs, “It means I forget that you weren’t here last year when Harry made his little _announcement_.”

Louis raises his eyebrows.

“That he likes boys as well as girls,” Zayn continues.

“Oh,” Louis replies, dumbfounded. He stares down at his hands, feeling waves of disappointment wash over him, “I wonder why he never told me?”

“It’s a hard thing to just bring up sometimes,” Zayn tries to reason, giving Louis’ shoulder a light squeeze, “I’m sure he wasn’t trying to keep it from you or anything. And it’s not like it’s a big thing. Besides that Nick guy there, there was only a very brief thing over the summer with this guy named Ben Winston who was a senior last year.”

Louis nods, still feeling like his stomach is twisting up in knots.

The rest of their walk is fairly quiet, and once home he thanks Zayn for accompanying him, before quickly going straight up to his room, stripping down to his pants and crawling into bed.

He has only been laying there for a few minutes when his phone vibrates loudly on his nightstand. There’s a text from Harry.

**Sorry if Nick made you feel uncomfortable. He doesn’t understand boundaries sometimes. Have a good night Lou :) X**

Louis frowns, turning his phone off instead of replying. He then pulls his duvet up over his head, curling up as small as he possibly can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how I got this chapter done so quickly, I just literally could not stop writing.  
> Big loves and thanks you's as always :)


	7. I Can't Steal You, No, Like You Stole Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song "You" by The Pretty Reckless

Some how Louis has gotten himself roped into babysitting. He blames it on his mother, who knew perfectly well that if she came into his room early enough to ask, that in his half conscious state he would agree to pretty much anything just to be able to go back to sleep.

Fizzy is sprawled out on the couch, watching the Princess Diaries, as Louis sits cross legged on the floor with his back leaning against it. The twins are sat in front of him, giving him a “princess make over.”

“Is so much blush really necessary?” Louis asks, titling his head back slightly to keep his tiara from slipping down over his eyes.

“Princesses’ cheeks must be rosy,” Phoebe scolds, as if it is the most obvious thing on the planet.

“What color lipstick do you want, Lou?” Daisy asks, holding up three different tubes in her small hands for him to choose from.

“What ever you think will make me look like the prettiest princess at the ball,” Louis replies to her fondly. Fizzy gives a snort from behind him.

“I hope you know you’re next,” Louis threatens quietly, but Fizzy just rolls her eyes, completely unbothered.

As Daisy gets to work applying a very shockingly orange colored lipstick to Louis’ lips (and a good portion of the surrounding skin) the doorbell suddenly rings.

“Of course,” Louis sighs, “Fiz, can you see if that’s anyone important? If not just ignore them.”

She rolls off the couch and disappears from view just as Louis hears Phoebe mumbling, “I think blue eye shadow would be very lovely…”

_Dear God._

He closes his eyes, waiting for her to begin applying it, when he suddenly hears the sound of a photo being snapped and Gemma’s unmistakable cackle. His eyes snap back open and he finds her standing in the doorway, cell phone out and Fizzy giggling into her hand behind her.

“Oh I am sooo glad I decided to come over here today,” Gemma laughs as she snaps another picture.

“You better delete those,” Louis threatens, pointing a finger at her.

“Oh, I will, don’t worry. Just after I send them to my brother. He’s gonna _love_ these.”

Louis is up on his feet as quick as a flash, trying to wrestle Gemma’s phone away from her.

“I’m just trying to share your beauty with the world!” she laughs, left arm pressed against Louis’ chest to hold him back, while her right arm is stretched out far behind her, trying to desperately text with one hand.

“Success!” she screeches, holding the phone triumphantly up over her head as the message sends, “Oh fuck yes!”

“Language, Styles!” Louis warns, “You are in the presence of impressionable young ladies.”

Louis whirls around to face his sisters, “Please ignore her girls, Gemma is obviously not ‘princess material.’”

“I am too princess material!” Gemma pouts rather seriously, poking Louis in the chest much harder than he feels is necessary.

“I do believe it’s time for Fizzy’s make over,” Louis announces.

The twins cheer in agreement and grab their sister by the arms, pulling her over to the couch. Fizzy shoots a glare at her brother over her shoulder and Louis smiles at her innocently, before grabbing Gemma by the wrist and sneaking off up stairs.

“Didn’t realize you were coming over today,” Louis yells from the bathroom as he attempts to scrub his face clean.

“Well I tried calling first,” Gemma replies from where she stands in the hallway, leaning against the wall and inspecting her nails, “but your phone was off.”

“Oh,” Louis remarks as he turns off the water, remembering the night before, “yeah, it must have died or something.”

They make their way into Louis’ room, flopping down on the bed side by side, feet dangling over the edge. For a moment they just lay there in silence, staring up at the swirling dust particles that dance in the late afternoon sun streaming in through Louis’ window.

“I really like him,” Gemma admits into the quiet.

“Niall?” Louis questions.

Gemma groans in exasperation, “Of course Niall, you twat.”

After a moment Gemma continues, much quieter, “It’s just… he’s not intimidated by me like most people are.”

“I’m happy for you Gem,” Louis smiles, closing his eyes.

“I hope you don’t think this means that I love you any less,” Gemma teases.

“I have already excepted my third wheel status,” Louis sighs dramatically, “Just know that if this ends badly I’m choosing Niall in the divorce.”

“Tosser,” Gemma giggles as she swats at Louis’ arm playfully.

Louis reaches out and pulls Gemma towards him, snuggling her close.

“I’m also going to tell you ‘I told you so’ every possible chance I get,” Louis mumbles into her hair.

“I expected no less.” Gemma huffs. “I need to find you someone so you can get laid and stop being so bitter.”

“I doubt it’ll be that simple,” Louis admits, only half joking.

Gemma sits up slightly and stares down at Louis, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” Louis asks, feeling exposed under her steady gaze.

Gemma smirks at him before she asks, “So, what do you think my chances are of getting one of those princess make overs?”

“Ask and you shall receive,” Louis shrugs, letting the subject change slide.

Gemma springs up from the bed happily, and Louis follows, grabbing his phone off his nightstand and turning it on as they make their way back down stairs.

Gemma is in the middle of a heated debate with the twins about the pros and cons of glittery eye shadows, while Louis sits in the recliner, completely absorbed with Mia as she makes her rain-soaked princess acceptance speech.

His phone vibrating in his hand startles his attention away from the movie, and he cringes as he sees that it’s from Harry, a forwarded message from Gemma revealing some rather unflattering pictures of himself in princess drag.

He covers his face in his hands, contemplating all the ways he can kill Gemma and make it look like an accident when his phone goes off again.

He takes a deep breath, gathering up his courage, before he glances down at Harry’s new message.

**Very cute, Princess Lou ;) X**

Louis’ whole face feels like it’s on fire.

“Who are you flirting with over there?” Gemma asks, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Your boyfriend,” Louis jokes as he slips his phone into his pocket and returns his attention to the telly, just in time to see Princess Mia receive her dream, foot popping kiss.

*

 

Harry joining Louis and Gemma at their lunch spot has now become an everyday occurrence, bringing along with him Zayn and Perrie. One day even Liam and Danielle decided to join them, much to the surprise of everybody in the group.

Gemma scowls at all the extra, noisy people scattered around them.

“I blame you for this,” she hisses under her breath at Louis.

Louis shrugs, unconcerned. “I’m also the reason that your new boyfriend started sitting with us in the first place. So, you’re welcome for that. Hope you’re enjoying my sloppy seconds.”

“Don’t worry babe, you’re a much better kisser than Tommo is anyways,” Niall laughs joyously, placing a smacking kiss to Gemma’s cheek.

Any catty remark she was prepared to retort with is instantly forgotten as she beams at the adorable Irishman.

“Stop it, I’m trying to eat over here,” Louis comments with an eye roll, which goes completely unnoticed by the love struck pair. Louis huffs and tosses a chip at them.

Harry giggles under his breath and Louis turns his attention towards him, giving Harry a wink.

Though Louis sees Harry now on a more regular basis because of his addition to their lunchtime, he is also at the same time seeing much less of him. It would appear that his new relationship with Nick takes up the majority of Harry’s free time, causing him to no longer join Louis and Gemma for their study sessions. Louis also hasn’t been invited back to Ed’s in quite sometime, and he just assumes that it is because Harry is no longer making those visits himself, being far too busy with his current love affair. At least, that’s what Louis hopes is the reason.

Louis likes to think that Harry misses spending time with him, because every night, without fail, Harry will text Louis right before he goes to bed. It’s usually something nonsensical, like a lame joke or whatever random question has happened to pop into Harry’s mind in that moment, but Louis can’t deny the pleasant feeling that over takes him every time he sees Harry’s name light up his screen.

**What is your opinion on excess nipples?**

Harry had texted him the previous night.

**How much excess are we talking about here? And on what exactly?**

**Four. On a human.**

**Are you trying to tell me something, Curly? ;)**

After fifteen minutes Louis was beginning to think that Harry had fallen asleep on him before his phone vibrates with a response.

The message is a picture of Harry standing in front of the mirror shirtless, a ridiculous, open mouth grin upon his face, as if he was caught mid-laugh, and, sure enough, four nipples proudly out on display.

**How did I miss those?**

Louis wonders as he thinks back to the night of the Homecoming dance where Harry was standing half naked on the stairs.

**They were hidden underneath the towel.**

Louis chuckles. Of course Harry would know exactly what he was referring to. His phone vibrates again before he has a chance to reply.

**So… thoughts?**

Louis considers this, staring at the shirtless picture of Harry for a long moment.

**If it was anyone else it’d be ridiculous, but you some how manage to pull them off. Kudos Haz.**

**Thanks :D XXXX**

Louis’ smiles broadly at the memory of that conversation, coming back into the present to hear Niall and Liam trying to convince Zayn to come play FIFA with them and Louis after school.

“Don’t you guys play football enough in real life?” Zayn shakes his head with a chuckle.

“Oh come Malik,” Louis teases, “stop acting like you’re too cool and mysterious for us. We could all use a proper lads day.”

He turns to Harry expectantly. “Harold?”

Harry looks down quickly, and begins to absent-mindedly play with some of the threads near the rip in the knee of his jeans. “I’d love to, but I’m afraid I’ve already got plans. Sorry.”

“Next time then, yeah?” Louis suggests, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

“Maybe,” Harry says as he looks up, giving Louis a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Maybe we should have a girls day?” Danielle suggests.

“And what would that involve exactly?” Gemma asks with a raised brow, “Make overs, alcohol… male strippers?”

“Let’s hope so!” Perrie says cheerfully.

“Well if that’s the case then I am in.” Gemma laughs.

The bell then rings, signaling the end of the lunch period, and they all head off their separate ways.

“Do you think it’s odd that Harry spends so much time with Nick?” Louis enquires of Gemma as they make their way down the halls to their next class.

“Hadn’t really thought about it,” Gemma replies, seeming uninterested.

Louis frowns down at his feet as he continues walking.

Louis goes through the rest of the day in a bit of a fog. Coach Higgins has to yell at him more than once to “pull his head out of his arse and get it into the game.” The boys are definitely not shy about making fun of Louis for all the extra laps he had to run later as they’re all gathered around in Liam’s living room.

“Well aren’t you all just full of shits and giggles today?” he mutters under his breath.

“Cheer up Tommo,” Niall encourages around a mouth full of crisps, “Everyone has their off days.”

“Yeah,” Louis agrees as Liam begins to pass out the controllers.

As much as he thought playing videos games and spending time with the lads would help his mood it only seems to frustrate him further, and Louis decides to call it a night after he loses his third game in a row.

As he heads home his mind drifts to Harry again, thinking of how much more fun the afternoon would have been if the curly haired lad had been there with him. Louis wonders what Harry is up to right now, but quickly brushes that thought away seeing as how it most likely involves Nick and that was something he just didn’t want to think about.

By the end of the day Louis is more than happy to crawl into his bed, feeling exhausted for reasons he is unsure of. He falls asleep almost instantly, and doesn’t realize until the next morning that for the fist time in many nights, Harry hadn’t texted him.

He tries to tell himself that Harry had probably been out late with Nick, and had just been so busy that he’d forgotten. As much as Louis doesn’t want this to bother him, the truth of the matter is it really does.

*

 

“I think you may have to take the lead on this one, Payno,” Louis says to Liam as they exit the locker room before the game.

“What do you mean?” Liam replies, brows furrowed with concern.

“Just not feeling a hundred percent today, nothing to worry yourself over,” Louis shrugs, giving Liam a reassuring pat on the back, “I have complete faith in your ability to lead us to yet another victory.”

A pleased smile quirks at the corner of Liam’s mouth before he nods and says, “I’ll be sure not to let you down.”

Louis nods back, but can’t bring himself to return the smile. He hasn’t been able to shake this funk he’s been in all day. It is frustrating him that he cannot pin point exactly what is wrong, because he refuses to believe that it all has to do with the fact that Harry hadn’t texted him. There must be something else bothering him, surely.

On the field Louis does everything he can to contribute to the game, stealing the ball whenever possible, but he just doesn’t have it in him to get anywhere near the goal, and often has to pass the ball off to Liam.

They win the game easily, but this is the first time all season Louis hasn’t scored a single goal during a game.

Coach Higgins doesn’t mention anything about it afterwards. Honestly, he doesn’t even have to. His disappointment is written clearly all over his face as he shakes his head and turns to congratulate Liam on a well played game.

Louis feels sick to his stomach. To him there is no worse feeling in the world than not giving his all. He tries to slip away to the locker room as quickly as possible before anyone tries to come up and speak to him, but of course he is not quick enough.

“What the hell happened out there tonight?” Gemma asks as she approaches, her voice lacking its usual mocking and laced instead with genuine concern. Louis hates it.

“Yes, that was extremely underwhelming,” a slightly familiar voice jeers, and Louis glances over to see Harry and Nick standing just behind Gemma.

“From the way Harry has spoken about you endlessly, I had expected so much more,” Nick continues in fake disappointment, “Now I just see that he is very easily impressed.”

“Explains why he’s dating you,” Louis mumbles under his breath, completely annoyed.

Gemma tries to stifle a giggle as Harry’s eyes narrow at Louis, mouth set in a hard line. Nick however seems far too pleased to have gotten a rise out of Louis, a large smirk splitting his features. _Stupid prat._

“No need to get your sports knickers in a twist, _Twinky_ ,” Nick mocks, “Unless of course you enjoy them like that, in which case I’d be more than happy to lend you a hand.”

Nick gives him a lewd wink and Louis can feel his jaw clench. What the hell was Nick even doing here in the first place?

Seeming to be able to sense the rising tension in the situation, Harry places a hand on Nick’s shoulder and suggests gently, “Maybe we should get going? We said we’d meet Alexa over twenty minutes ago.”

“Patience, young Styles,” Nick tuts, “I haven’t gotten a chance yet to invite your little friends to my oh so fabulous Halloween party this weekend.”

Louis snorts and gives an exaggerated eye roll.

“I’ll tell them about it later,” Harry insists.

“Costumes are required!” Nick calls over his shoulder as he let’s himself be guided off into the crowds by Harry, “And that means you too, Twinky. See you there!”

“I don’t like him,” Louis snarls once they are out of earshot.

“What’s to like?” Gemma deadpans.

“There is no way in hell I am going to his pretentious little party.” Louis decides as he crosses his arms over his chest.

Gemma sighs loudly. “Louis Tomlinson, we are going to that party even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming the entire way there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo-hoo! Another chapter! And I already have the next one like a third of the way written! Moving right a long!
> 
> Sooo many people have been reading this and leaving kudos and lovely comments and I just want to say thank you so much! I have always been so nervous about sharing my work with other people so getting your positive feedback makes me feel so warm and fuzzy inside :)
> 
> P.S.  
> How is everyone enjoying all the pictures of Louis in his football get up today? Cause I personally am SWEATING. Hot damn I have such a thing for football Louis... need more picture of his amazing thighs in shorts and sweaty fringe. Please and thank you.


	8. I Still Feel You And The Taste Of Cigarettes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song "Blue Light" by Bloc Party
> 
> WARNING:  
> There is drug use in this chapter. And maybe something that could be considered dub-con if you look at it real closely and squint. So heads up.

“Costumes are for children,” Louis mumbles from the backseat of Gemma’s car as he adjusts his sailor’s hat. He’d picked his costume out without much care or thought when out shopping with Gemma for hers, but now that he actually has it on he feels rather ridiculous.

“Which works out perfectly really, seeing as how right now you’re complaining an awful lot like a child,” Gemma responds, sending Niall into near hysterics.

Louis tries not to pout, but it is difficult. At least Gemma looks good in her rather standard issue purple and black witch costume. And so what if Niall is dressed up as a banana? It’s _Niall_ , he can get away with that sort of thing. Louis on the other hand looks like a walking nautical joke.

“I think my pants are too small,” he comments, squirming uncomfortably.

“Makes your bum look right fit though, yeah?” Niall suggests.

“Nialler, I don’t know if I’m exactly comfortable with you commenting on my bum,” Louis states, wrinkling his nose.

“Nor am I,” Gemma chimes in.

“Suit yourselves,” Niall shrugs, bouncing up and down in his seat as they near their destination.

Louis folds his arms across his chest. He still can’t believe that Gemma is making him go to this thing.

The house they pull up to is large and extravagant, like the people that live there want everyone to know exactly how much money they have. Louis hates it.

Louis begrudgingly follows Gemma and Niall up the front walk, wondering how soon he can make up an excuse to try and leave early.

Inside the large living area looks more like an actual nightclub than a room in a house, with a DJ set up in the far back corner surrounded by large speakers with professional laser nights, a disco ball and even a fog machine. Along the far wall of the room Louis can see Harry and Nick sitting at the bar (yes, there is an actual bar, complete with bartender dressed up as a mummy).

As the group makes their way over to them Louis gets a good look at Harry, who is wearing a white, long sleeved button up shirt that is left completely undone, exposing his chest and abs, a pair of white feathered wings and a flower crown made up of large white daisies nestled within his dark curls.

Nick on the other hand is wearing a black suit with a red shirt and tie, devil horns just visible behind his stupid quiff.

“How fitting,” Louis yells at him once they are within earshot.

Nick gives him his slimiest grin and shouts over the music, “So lovely of you to make it, Twinky.”

“Stop calling me that,” Louis demands, but Nick ignores him, instead turning his attention to Gemma.

“I hope you found it okay.”

“It was no problem, this is a nice place you have here,” Gemma comments, motioning to their surroundings.

“Thanks, though it’s actually my friend, Pixie’s,” Nick corrects, “I’m just crashing here temporarily.”

“So you’re a free loader then?” Louis asks in faux innocence and Nick’s lip twitches.

Satisfied in his ability to annoy Nick finally, Louis turns and gives his attention to Harry.

“Hi Haz,” he greets with a smile, “and what exactly are you supposed to be?”

“Um, an angel, I guess,” Harry stammers, cheeks turning rosy, “couldn’t find a proper halo though.”

“I think this is much better anyways,” Louis comments, reaching up to fix one of Harry’s curls that has fallen out of place.

“Thanks,” Harry replies quietly, looking Louis up and down, “I like your costume as well.”

“As do I,” Nick contributes loudly from behind them, “I have quite the fondness for _sea-men_.”

“What exactly is your problem?” Louis snaps as he whirls around.

“No problem at all Twinky,” Nick laughs gently, “I just think you’re adorable when you get all riled up.”

Nick gets up off his stool, stepping into Louis’ space and leering down at him.

“You have very lovely collar bones,” Nick comments, watching Louis closely for a reaction, “I would very much love to suck a tequila shot out of them sometime. Later tonight perhaps?”

Louis has to walk away to keep himself from taking a swing at Nick.

“Louis wait! He is just joking with you!” he can hear Harry calling after him, but he keeps pushing his way through the crowd, wanting to put as much distance between himself and Nick as humanly possible.

He walks through a set of open french doors and takes a giant gulp of the cool night air, pacing in circles.

“What’s the matter Blue Eyes?”

Louis glances to his left and notices a girl lounging across a stone bench near one of the rose beds, smoking a cigarette and watching Louis closely. Her dark hair is piled high on top of her head and she is wearing the largest pair of false eyelashes that Louis has ever seen, with a 60’s style black and white mod dress.

“Come,” she says, moving her feet down to the ground so that she is in a sitting position, patting the now unoccupied space beside her, “Tell me all about it.”

Louis takes another calming breath before walking over and having a seat.

“Rough night?” she asks, taking a long drag from her cigarette as she raises an eyebrow at him.

“Just trying to deal with an asshole that is so beyond my patience level,” Louis replies with a huff.

The girl nods knowingly, then after a moment reaches her hand down the front of her dress, pulling out a small plastic baggy from her bra. She places it into Louis’ hand and states, “These can help.”

Louis holds the baggy up close to his face, inspecting the small white pills inside with a diamond design pressed into their sides.

“What are they?” he asks.

The girl shrugs, “Just something that will make you happy. Something that’ll make it near impossible for you to be upset about anything.”

“I don’t have any money on me,” Louis replies, handing the baggy back to the girl.

She opens it up, taking out two of the pills and places them into Louis’ hand. “These are on the house. You are far too cute to be unhappy, Blue Eyes.”

Louis stares at the two pills for a long moment. Normally he wasn’t a fan of drugs other than the occasional joint or two, but he has to admit that the idea of taking them did make the evening seem a little more bearable.

“Okay,” he states, and the girl reaches over to pick up her drink that she had sitting on the ground beside her, handing it to Louis.

After one more deep breath Louis pops the pills into his mouth, taking a large swig of the pink liquid, his senses being over come with the strong taste of vodka and cranberry. He swallows it all down with a large gulp, coughing slightly into the back of his hand.

The girl grins at him in a way that Louis almost finds unsettling. “Cher,” she says as she holds out a hand to him.

“Louis,” he responds as he take it.

“I think I’m going to keep calling you Blue Eyes,” she states, releasing his hand.

She takes a final drag from her cigarette before tossing it out into the garden without bothering to put it out first, then stands up and straightens out her dress.

“I think you owe me a dance, Blue Eyes,” she smirks, helping Louis up onto his feet and leading him back into the crowded house.

They push their way to the center of the dance floor, and Cher begins to twirl around him to the beat that’s blasting from the speakers. Louis stands there awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to do with himself. Cher reaches forward and plucks the sailor hat from his head, placing it crookedly upon her own.

“Hey,” he pouts, reaching out to take it back, but she ducks out of his reach and shakes her head, mischievous smile plastered across her face as she shakes her hips suggestively.

Louis makes to reach for it again when he feels a pleasant warming sensation begin to grow in the pit of his stomach, quickly spreading to all his limbs, making him feel light, almost weightless.

He giggles at Cher, and her smile widens as she steps closer, wrapping her arms around his neck and whispering hotly into his ear, “Are you starting to feel it, Blue Eyes?”

Louis can only laugh in response.

He feels as if the sound waves are actually something physical that he can feel and touch, and they crash against his body, causing it to sway back and forth effortlessly in time to the music. He feels a tad unsteady on his feet, and he thinks that Cher’s soft, warm arms around his neck are probably the only thing holding him up right at the moment.

“You are too adorable,” Cher says, pressing her hips firmly against Louis’ in a way that nearly makes his brain short circuit.

“We are going to have a great night, Blue Eyes,” she continues, pressing feather soft kisses along his neck.

One of her arms has found its way from around his neck to around his waist, and her hand slides further down his back until it comes to rest on his bum, giving it a firm squeeze, pressing their middles even closer together. Louis visibly shudders, a breathy moan escaping his lips despite himself.

Cher pulls back slightly, her eyes meeting his for a moment before she smiles and leans forward, lips crashing against his in a heated kiss. Electricity shoots through him, every cells on fire with sensory overload, feeling too much for his brain to process.

The inside of Cher’s mouth taste strongly of cigarettes, and it makes Louis crave one despite the fact that he doesn’t smoke. He is just thinking of pulling back and asking her for one, when her other hand slides down his chest, along his stomach and comes to rest with her palm against his length through the fabric of his pants. She applies a slight pressure to him that nearly leaves Louis an absolute mess on the middle of the dance floor.

Before he has the chance to blink he feels himself being yanked forcefully from Cher’s grasp by a tight hand around his upper arm, and Louis watches as she slowly fades away into the distance, a confused and slightly annoyed expression on her face.

He is pulled through a doorway and into an unoccupied hallway, where the music is much lower but still refuses to let him stay still, swaying back and forth as he walks. He’s brought to a halt suddenly and he glances up to see who has a hold of him.

“Haz!” he cheers joyfully once he recognized the tall, curly haired lad.

Harry is staring down at him, his green eyes dark and intense. “You looked like you needed rescuing,” he says, voice tight.

“Not really,” Louis shrugs, giggling happily, “but this is better, much better. Hi Hazza!”

Harry’s brows furrow. “Are you on something?”

Louis shakes his head, absent-mindedly rubbing his hand up and down the sleeve of Harry’s shirt. “Don’t worry about it, just talk to me Haz. I feel like I haven’t talked to you in ages!”

“We just talked less than an hour ago,” Harry chuckles fondly.

“You don’t text me anymore,” Louis pouts, though he’s not really sad. It’s impossible to be sad when Harry is around.

Harry stares down at his feet, seeming a tad uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, just been busy lately. Didn’t think you minded that much.”

“You still like me, right?” Louis asks, hands coming around to the front of Harry’s shirt, marveling at the way the fabric feels, and how it runs so smoothly between his fingertips.

“Of course I do Lou,” Harry sounds a bit hurt, unable to take his eyes off of Louis’ hands.

“This shirt feels amazing,” Louis states in wonder.

Slowly Harry brings his hands up to wrap gently around Louis’ small wrist, pulling his shirt loose from Louis’ grip. Louis can’t help but stare at how much bigger Harry’s hands are than his own.

“Are you sure you’re okay Lou?” Harry asks quietly.

“Your skin feels cold,” Louis replies, and without any thought Louis steps forward, leaning in until he is pressed up against Harry, resting his heated face against the cool skin of Harry’s chest, closing his eyes.

He can feel Harry tense beneath him, but he can barely register it above the sound of Harry’s frantic heart beat that seems to almost be going in time to the music playing somewhere off in the distance.

“Lou...”

Harry’s voice sounds strained as his grip on the older boy tightens, pushing him away from his body. Louis opens his eyes and stares up at him, feeling as if he could float away up into the galaxies if Harry’s grip wasn’t anchoring him to the earth.

Harry’s eyes are shimmering, like large jade stones, holding so many secrets within their depths that Louis is dying to know and understand, but Harry’s face reveals nothing.

Harry tears his gaze away, clearing his throat. “I think I should go find Gemma. Can you wait here?”

Louis nods, and then Harry is letting him go, walking away and Louis suddenly feels a bit cold and lonely. He leans against the wall, sliding down onto the floor, his fingers digging deep into the plush carpet beneath him. It is so soft, and Louis is tempted to lie down and rub his face against it.

“Oh God, you look a right mess.”

Louis looks up and sees Gemma walking towards him, an amused smile on her face.

“Gemma!” Louis cheers, jumping to his feet and rushing towards her, wrapping her up in a tight hug and swaying them back and forth.

“Careful there you nutter, you’re going to make me fall,” she laughs.

Louis rubs his hands up and down her back, thinking she smells lovely.

“Where is Harry?” He asks suddenly, stepping back and searching around for the younger Styles but not seeing him anywhere.

“He’s with Nick,” Gemma explains, wrapping an arm around Louis’ shoulder.

“Nick is horrible,” Louis laughs, as if he has just made the funniest joke in the world, “Harry should be here with us instead.”

“You are high as a fucking kite,” Gemma says as she regards him with a raised brow. “I think it’s time I take you home.”

“I want to cuddle Gemma, will you cuddle with me?” Louis asks, nuzzling his face against her shoulder.

“Yes, yes, of course. Let’s just get out of here first.”

They make their way back through the house, Louis feeling the energy of the people around him and wanting to soak it up, bask in it, let it become a part of his very being.

Outside they clamber into Gemma’s car, Louis curling up in the passenger seat and trailing his fingers lightly across the fabric of his pants.

“I want to listen to loud music,” Louis asks once Gemma is settled into her seat, “Can we please listen to loud music?”

Gemma laughs, then starts up the car, turning the volume all the way up on the stereo. Louis closes his eyes and smiles, practically purring.

He rolls his window down as they drive, the cool night air splashing against his warm skin, making all his nerves tingle.

“I lost my hat,” Louis recalls suddenly, opening his eyes.

Gemma rolls her eyes but smiles fondly at him. “I think it will be okay, love.”

Gemma brings Louis back to her house, not wanting to leave him alone, and more importantly not wanting him to get into any sort of trouble with his mother if she should happen to wake up and see the current state that he is in.

She whispers for Louis to be quiet as she sneaks him up stairs to her bedroom, and he giggles helplessly into his hand, trying as hard as possible to not make too much noise.

Once inside of the room Louis wastes no time stripping himself from his costume, crawling into Gemma’s bed in nothing but his pants. He wraps her duvet around him, sinking down into the pillow soft mattress, sighing contently.

He glances up at her bedroom window next to the bed and he untangles himself from the duvet, scrambling over to pull back the curtains and open up the window. He then settles back in and stares out it, watching as the stars twinkle overhead.

A few moments later Louis feels Gemma’s weight dip down onto the mattress, and she curls up behind him, wrapping her arm around his waist and placing her chin on his shoulder. Louis intertwines their legs and gently traces his fingers along her arm, causing goose bumps to rise on her skin.

“This is nice, Gem.” Louis hums.

“What? Me? Or the drugs?” she asks with a smirk.

Louis shrugs, jostling her slightly. “Both, I guess. Where’s Niall?”

“Why? Would you rather be cuddling with him?”

Louis shakes his head with a giggle.

“He was too busy having fun drinking everyone at that party under the table so I told him he should stay,” Gemma admits, snuggling in closer.

“You’re a good girlfriend,” Louis praises.

“The best actually,” Gemma confirms, pleased.

Louis closes his eyes, listening to Gemma’s breathing for a long moment.

“I wish Harry was here, I miss him,” Louis says, surprising even himself as he says the words.

Gemma lets out a long sigh. “I know Louis. He’s just very caught up in this little… _infatuation_ thing he has going on with Nick right now. But he’s still your friend.”

Louis opens his eyes and stares out the window into the inky blackness of the night. “Yeah, I guess.”

*

 

Louis hates everything. The sunlight breaching through his closed eyelids is far too bright for his pounding head to handle, and every single muscle in his body aches. He feels as if he is covered in a thin layer of sweat, but chills continue to rack through his entire being, despite the heavy duvet on top of him and Gemma’s body heat next to him. His mouth feels unbearably dry and stale.

He can feel Gemma beginning to stir but he still cannot bring himself to open his eyes just yet.

“Good morning sunshine,” comes Gemma’s groggy voice from somewhere underneath the covers, and Louis tries to clear his vocal cords enough to respond when Anne’s rather firm voice replies, “Good morning.”

Louis opens his eyes and rolls over as Gemma peaks her head out from under the duvet, her hair sticking up in several odd directions.

Anne is standing in the doorway of Gemma’s bedroom, arms folded and eyes narrowed at the two semi-conscious teenagers.

“Hello mum,” Gemma says cheerfully around a yawn, “And how are you this fine morning?”

“Oh just excellent,” Anne replies, “my day started off with a lovely phone call from a very frantic Jay wondering if I knew where her son was.”

Louis ducks his head sheepishly and pulls the duvet up to his chin.

“And I am curious,” Anne continues, “as to why he is in your bed?”

Gemma shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly. “We got in late and didn’t want to chance waking his young sisters. They are growing girls you know; need their rest and such. Besides, Louis and I fancied a bit of a best friend cuddle.”

“And do you think Niall will care about this?” Anne asks with a raised brow.

“Not at all. He knows I find Louis about as sexually attractive as a carrot-“

“Hey.”

“-Besides, he was far too preoccupied out doing his Irish heritage proud so I doubt he gave the subject much thought.”

Anne’s expression softens a little bit. “Okay, final question: do you happen to know why your brother didn’t come home last night?”

“That one I don’t know,” Gemma admits with a slight frown.

“I am going to kill him,” Anne mutters under her breath, then continues in a louder tone, “Okay, you’re off the hook this time. But don’t think you guys can get away with these sorts of shenanigans in the future, all right? And Louis dear, please call your poor mother before she has a heart attack.”

Louis nods and the Anne leaves the room.

“Well, that was fun,” Gemma smiles as she sits up.

“What the hell happened last night?” Louis groans, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“You don’t recall?” Gemma inquires.

Louis tries to rack his brain, but it feels like trying to tread through deep mud. “I remember some girl giving me drugs then groping me on the dance floor, and I remember you driving me home… and I think I may have talked to Harry at one point? I don’t know… it’s all a bit hazy.”

“Interesting…” Gemma hums thoughtfully.

Louis removes his arm and stares up at her. “Why?”

“No reason,” she singsongs.

Gemma then smiles at him, leaning forward and placing a kiss on his forehead. “Stay right here love, I’m going to go make you some tea and grab you a couple of painkillers.”

“You are my favorite person on the planet!” Louis calls after her as she disappears from the room. He then throws the covers over his head, curling up small and wishing that he could just avoid existing for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like a woman possessed with how quickly I got this chapter done but it was just so much fun to write, possibly my favorite one yet! I realized after I wrote this that it may seem like Cher was purposely trying to drug Louis to take advantage of him but that wasn't what I had in mind at all. Though honestly I suppose the story works both ways so choose which ever you prefer I guess :)
> 
> Lots of thank yous and loves and worshiping your lovely faces :)


	9. And The Cracks Begin To Show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song "Cracks (Flux Pavilion Remix)" by The Freestylers

Harry has not joined them for lunch once this entire week, nor has he gotten rides to school with Gemma in the mornings. In fact, Louis has not seen Harry at school at all. If Louis didn’t know any better he’d think he didn’t even go here anymore.

But he does know better, especially when Perrie is telling him stories at lunch about a conversation she and Harry had during third period earlier that day.

Louis wonders if Harry is avoiding him. He hasn’t seen or spoken to him since the night of Nick’s party, and Louis has this sinking feeling in his gut that in his altered state of mind he may have done something to make Harry upset.

Louis has thought about texting him on multiple occasions, but he can’t quite muster up the courage to when he doesn’t know what Harry’s reaction to him will be.

Gemma is zero help.

“I didn’t do anything… bad at the party, did I?” Louis had asked while they were pouring over their history homework at Louis’ kitchen table on Tuesday evening.

“You were pretty much your normal, prat self, just the high version,” Gemma had replied as she chewed on the cap of her pen, flipping through her textbook.

“Cheers.” Louis huffed with a scowl.

Louis thinks his best bet to get information is from Zayn, but he needs to be careful, because Zayn is definitely more Harry’s friend than he is his, and he doubts Zayn will tell him anything if it will betray Harry’s loyalties.

Subtly will be the key.

“Hey Louis,” Zayn grunts as he plops down next to Louis on the bench at lunch.

“Where’s Harry?” Louis blurts, instantly cringing at himself.

_Real smooth._

“Huh?” Zayn blinks at him through his cigarette smoke.

“Just wondering if he was joining us today?” Louis shrugs, trying to go for nonchalant, “Haven’t seen him in a while.”

Zayn’s lip quirks up slightly as he takes another drag, eyeing Louis. “Nah, mate. Pretty sure he’s going out for lunch with Nick again.”

“Oh, right. Of course.”

“Pretty sure his cell still works too,” Zayn mentions, raising his eyebrows.

Louis nods, then quickly adverts his attention towards others. He tries to throw himself into their conversation, laughing loudly even though he is very much aware of Zayn’s eyes still on him.

*

 

Louis is lying sideways across his bed, shoulders hanging off the edge, feeling the pressure build in his face as all the blood rushes to his head. He stares at his open bedroom door until Gemma’s upside down figure suddenly appears in it, and she quirks an eyebrow at him.

“You do some of the weirdest shit in your free time,” she chuckles.

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try,” he sighs, “Anything I can help you with Miss Styles?”

“Let’s go get dinner."

“I’m not very hungry.”

Gemma crosses her arms over her chest, frowning. “Dammit Tomlinson, stop moping.”

He rolls his eyes at her, sitting up before lying back down on the bed fully. “I’m not moping.”

“You’ve been acting like a little bitch all week.” She points out, striding across the room to perch at the foot of his bed.

Louis rolls over onto his stomach, hiding his face within his pillow.

“Will you at least tell me what’s wrong?” she asks.

“Nothing’s wrong,” comes his muffled reply.

Gemma narrows her eyes at him, before firmly stating, “Then you have no excuse not to come eat with me.”

Louis tilts his head slightly so that he can stare up at her with one eye. “You aren’t going to leave until you get your way, huh?”

A smug grin spreads across her face. “The fact that you’d even ask that… it’s like you don’t know me at all.”

Louis turns his face back into the pillow, groaning loudly.

Gemma pats his back triumphantly. “Grab a jacket love, it’s pretty chilly outside.”

Gemma drives them to a small little diner down town, Louis staring out the window for the duration of the drive, finding it impossible to focus on the conversation Gemma is trying to hold with him.

It isn’t until they walk into the diner that Louis understands the real reason Gemma had wanted him to come.

“Is that your brother?” Louis hisses under his breath, seeing Harry sitting by himself at a booth in the back.

“Didn’t I mention he was joining us?” she questions, “Hmm, must have slipped my mind.”

They make their way over to the table, Harry looking up and his eyes going wide when he spots Louis. Louis tries not to let the hurt show too much on his face.

“Sorry we’re late, took a bit to get Princess here ready to go,” Gemma shrugs, sitting down in the booth across from her brother, too close to the edge for Louis to sit down next to her.

Her attention is immediately on her menu, and she gives no notice to the fact that Louis is just standing there, awkwardly. Harry looks at his sister and then up at Louis, before scooting closer to the wall to make room for him, flashing a weak smile.

“Thanks,” Louis mumbles as he takes a seat next to him.

“Well,” Gemma looks up at them both and smiles brightly, “isn’t this lovely? Getting to spend sometime with my two favorite boys.”

“You don’t consider Niall to be one of your ‘favorite boys?’” Louis asks, raising a skeptical brow.

She raises a brow right back at him, smirking. “He’s in a different category of  ‘favorite.’ I could tell you about how him and I _spend time together_ if you like?”

“Please no,” Harry begs, looking a bit pale.

“Absolutely not,” Louis wrinkles his nose in disgust.

They all turn their attention to the menus, the silence seeming far too heavy and loud for Louis’ liking. The waitress comes and takes their orders; Louis getting the bacon cheeseburger, Harry the club sandwich, and Gemma an order of onion rings.

“H,” Gemma begins once the waitress has left, “what have you been doing with your life lately? I feel like I never see you anymore, which is strange considering you only live right down the hall from me.”

Louis tries not to appear too interested in the answer, only glancing at Harry out of the corner of his eye. Harry’s cheeks color ever so slightly as he stares down at his hands folded on the tabletop.

“Just hanging out with Nick,” he mumbles.

Gemma leans forward, eyeing her brother closely. “You must _really_ like him then, huh?”

Harry shifts in his seat uncomfortably, adverting his gaze out the window, “I suppose.”

“Well, you’ve sure convinced me,” Gemma states, sitting back and looking rather smug.

Harry pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as his cheeks darken further.

Gemma’s phone vibrates loudly upon the table, startling everyone. She glances down at it quickly before standing up.

“Well, looks like I have to go boys.”

“What?” Louis stammers.

“I have to go,” she repeats with a shrug.

“What about your food?” Harry questions.

“It’s just onion rings. I’m sure you guys can split them.”

Louis stares at her in disbelief and she smiles at him, batting her eyelashes in faux innocence.

“Later boys,” she calls over her shoulder as she makes a quick get away.

“She planned this, didn’t she?” Harry asks.

“Pretty sure, yeah,” Louis laughs. He turns to look at Harry, who gives him a sort of shy smile in return.

“How have you been, Lou?” he asks quietly.

“Okay, I guess,” Louis replies, out of lack of anything better to say.

A moment of silence stretches out between them, and it makes Louis itch. He adverts his eyes to his water glass on the table, where he begins to nervously run his finger along the condensation built up on the outside.

“I hear you have a big game tomorrow.” Harry states suddenly, drawing Louis’ attention back towards him. He’s watching him intently, his face unreadable.

“Oh yeah,” Louis shrugs, “it’s the final scheduled game of the season. If we win we’ll be in the semi-finals.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt you guys will win,” Harry declares, nodding his head firmly.

“You think?” Louis questions hopefully.

“For sure. You’re amazing, Lou,” Harry admits quietly, voice dripping with sincerity.

Louis flushes slightly at the compliment, and Harry stares at him fondly for a long moment before he blinks suddenly, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“I mean, this is the best the team has been in _years_.”

“Right,” Louis agrees slowly, looking down at the tabletop.

Their food comes then, and Louis shoves a few onion rings into his mouth simply for an excuse not to speak.

“Maybe I should make a poster,” Harry muses quietly.

“Huh?” Louis grunts, trying not to choke on all the food in his over stuffed mouth.

“For the game tomorrow, “ Harry clarifies, “like, maybe just a giant picture of your face or something.”

“Ha, why? To terrify the other team?” Louis jokes once his mouth is empty.

“Or to distract them with your beauty,” Harry suggests rather seriously, before smirking, “Maybe I could use the picture of you in your princess tiara?”

Louis gives an indignant squawk and shoves at Harry’s shoulder playfully. Harry throws his head back and a delighted giggle bubbles up from deep within him, so infections that Louis can’t help the light chuckle that leaves his own lips as he shakes his head.

And then Harry’s phone rings, the shrill sound cutting through the air, and shattering the moment into a million pieces. Harry scrambles to grab his phone from his pocket, his face falling slightly as he looks at the screen. Louis can’t help but to sneak a glance at it, seeing Nick’s smug face lighting up across it.

“You can get that if you want,” Louis remarks nonchalantly.

Harry stares at it for a beat longer before shrugging. “He’s probably just wondering where I am. We’re supposed to meet up for drinks.”

“Oh,” Louis states, his expression dropping as he looks away, “well if you need to go don’t let me keep you.”

He can feel Harry’s eyes on him, burrowing into the side of his profile, but he refuses to look up.

“Maybe you’re right,” Harry says softly, before flagging down the waitress and asking for a box.

Louis tries to ignore the feeling of disappointment churning in his stomach like bile. Of course Harry would rather be spending time with Nick than him. This whole thing had been Gemma’s idea in the first place. At this point Louis doubts that Harry would have even shown up if he had known he was going to be there. He stands up to let Harry slide out of the booth, wishing there was a way from him to just disappear into the floor.

“I’ll pay for this Lou,” Harry mumbles as he pulls his wallet out with one hand as he holds his styrofoam box in the other.

“You don’t have-“

“I’m paying,” Harry insists, setting a couple of bills onto the table.

“Okay,” Louis relents, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

Harry stares at him for another long moment, as if he’s waiting for something, but Louis has no idea what that could be.

“I’ll see you later,” Harry throws over his shoulder as he finally turns and makes his way to the exit.

Once he’s gone Louis glances around at all the other patrons in the diner, all sitting together with their friends and family, talking and laughing loudly. He suddenly realizes how pathetically alone he is. Rather than sit back down he decides to head home, leaving his mostly untouched food behind him.

*

 

Louis is feeling restless and agitated. He needs to get the fuck out of his house.

He changes into his running clothes, grabs his iPod, and takes off down the street, Green Day blasting through his ear buds.

His mind is a jumble of emotions, and he does his best to out run them. He doesn’t want to think of the fact that Harry’s relationship with Nick seems to have single handedly ruined their friendship. He doesn’t want to think about how Harry has most likely been avoiding him for the last week. And he most definitely does not want to think of how much this actually hurts him, or why he cares so much in the first place.

Louis isn’t really sure how long he’s been running. All he knows is that his thighs burn and his lungs feel as if they are about to explode, but he pushes harder, running blindly as Billy Joe Armstrong sings to him about a land of make believe.

He is so focused on just keeping forward, keeping moving, that he doesn’t notice the slight raise in the pavement where a tree root has grown up underneath. He stubs his foot against it, sending himself tumbling onto grass of the park he’d been passing.

“SON OF A BITCH!” he roars up towards the sky as his toes throb painfully. He stretches out like a starfish, just lying there with his eyes closed until his harsh breathing and rapid heart rate begins to die down to a much more normal pace.

He sits up slightly, leaning back on his elbows and looking up and down the street. Nobody seems to be around to have witnessed his little fall or hissy fit, for which he is eternally grateful. He notices a little café just on the corner of the street, and decides that a nice hot tea is just the thing to calm his nerves.

The barista takes in Louis’ sweaty appearance with a frown, and it takes all the will power within him not to leap over the counter and tackle her.

As he waits for his tea he becomes a bit lost staring at the pastry displays, when suddenly there is a large hand coming down on his shoulder. Louis whirls around and is greeted by the very smiley face of Ed.

“Hey,” Louis says in happy surprise, trying to remember exactly when it was that he had last seen the ginger haired lad.

Ed pulls him into a one armed hug, patting his back a few times. “Hey mate. How you feeling?”

Louis steps back out of the hug to look at him, eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

“Harry came over a couple of days ago without you,” Ed clarifies, “when I asked he said you’ve been sick.”

Louis’ heart sinks. It was one thing to suspect that Harry had been avoiding him, but another all together to have it confirmed. He tries not to let any of that show on his face though as he quickly lies, “Oh yeah, it was just a bit of a migraine. Nothing life threatening.”

Ed’s grin grows impossibly wider. “Glad to hear it man. Look I’ve got to run, but I’m sure I’ll being seeing you next time, yeah?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Louis calls out weakly to his retreating form.

He feels frozen to the spot, trying to keep himself from hyperventilating. He doesn’t even register the barista calling out his name repeatedly when his drink is ready.

*

 

“Yellow card on number seventeen!” The ref yells after he’s blown his whistle, thrusting the yellow slip of paper high into the air.

“Stop playing like a jackarse Tomlinson!” Coach Higgins screams, throwing his clipboard down onto the bench.

“What the hell Tommo?” Niall asks a bit warily, “You’re acting like a wild animal out there.”

“This is no time to start playing dirty,” Liam states firmly, frowning at Louis.

“Shut up,” Louis spats, walking away from them and pushing his sweaty fringe out of his eyes.

Since he'd left the café about three hours earlier all he’s been able to see is red, the color only intensifying every time he looks up into the crowd and notices the extreme lack of a certain curly headed, green-eyed lad. Not that he should really be surprised though.

All he feels is pain, and that’s exactly what he wants to make everybody else feel. The other team looks like they are scared to death of him, while his own team looks like they want to fucking strangle him.

As much as he is just not giving a shit right he forces himself to, realizing how important it is to his team, and how much he’ll hate himself in the morning if he lets Harry ruin this game for him.

He takes a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to calm down, and by the time he gets the ball again he manages to run down towards the goal without body checking every player of the opposing team that he passes. In Louis’ eyes, that is a huge victory.

With all his rage finally channeled into a more productive course of action, they win the game almost embarrassingly easily. Niall and Liam are jumping around in celebration, whooping and hollering and Louis just wants to escape.

“Why are you being such a dick today?” Gemma asks as she walks up beside him. Louis doesn’t respond, just reaches for his sports bag and slings it over his shoulder.

“Hey,” Gemma says, placing a hand on his shoulder that he roughly shakes away, glaring at her. She looks a bit taken aback for once in her life, and Louis makes a mental note to apologize about it tomorrow, but right now he just wants to be _away._

He starts off across the field towards the parking lot and Niall calls after him, “Wait Tommo! What about the after party?”

But Louis just keeps on walking, unable to care less about some stupid after party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So little mini story time:  
> I didn't really have many ideas for this chapter. I knew a couple of things I wanted to happen before the next chapter but it wasn't much and it would have made the chapter really short, which I hate.  
> On my last chapter the users FSSunshine and loutommo mentioned something about Gemma scheming to get Louis and Harry together. Now while I've already had a different plan for that from the beginning I had to admit that did sound like something Gemma would do. But then I realized that just because she attempts to get them together doesn't mean it has to work. And that's where I got the inspiration for the majority of this chapter.  
> So an extra special giant thank you to FSSunshine and loutommo. This chapter is dedicated to you guys! :)
> 
> Hope everyone is still enjoying this and as always thanks for reading and I love you all! :)


	10. And We'll Be Slow Honey Lovers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song "Clocks Go Forward" by James Bay

Louis’ phone rings out into the darkness, interrupting his already rather fitful sleep. He rolls over groaning loudly, swearing to God that if it’s Niall drunk dialing him again Louis will kill him with his bare fucking hands.

He grabs his phone and blinks repeatedly as his eyes try to adjust and focus on the blinding light of his screen. When he sees Harry’s name flashing across it he feels for certain that he is still asleep and lets the call go to voicemail.

But then it rings again, startling him so that he answers without hesitation.

“Hello?” he croaks, voice still rough with sleep.

“Louis?” comes a very female, very _not Harry_ voice from the other end.

“Who is this?” he asks as he tries to stifle a yawn.

“Uh, Cara from school. I know you probably don’t really know me…”

Louis racks his brain, and sudden imagines of the two girls in Niall’s kitchen a couple of months ago come flooding back to him. “Oh yeah, hi. Why do you have Harry’s phone?”

“Well, I kind of need your help.”

Louis sits up in bed, his brows suddenly furrowing with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Well,” she begins to explain is a rush, ”Barbara and I are at this club downtown and we ran into Harry and… well, he’s just a complete mess. Beyond wasted and crying. He won’t tell me what’s wrong though… and I can barely understand what he does say. The club owner has already threatened to call the cops if he doesn’t leave. But like, he’s here by himself and he can't get a cab really cause he can’t even stand or anything. He needs to get home Louis, and I would have called Gemma, but, honestly, that girl terrifies me. But I figured since you and him are such good friends-”

“Okay, okay,” Louis cuts her off, rubbing his fingers against his temple, “Where exactly are you?”

“The Little Mixer on 8th and Harlow,” she answers quickly.

“Okay, I’ll be there soon.”

Louis climbs out of bed, glancing at the time on his phone and seeing that it’s nearly 2am. As he walks to his wardrobe he dials Gemma, but her phone goes straight to voicemail. He tries Niall next, but his does the same thing. He tries not to think too hard about why both of their phones are off. He could really do without those mental images haunting him for the rest of his life.

He frowns down at his phone. There is no way he can actually take Harry home without waking up Anne, and that was just something he would rather not deal with at all. With a frustrated sigh Louis realizes that he really has no other choice but to bring Harry back here.

He throws on a large pair of grey sweats and a black hoodie that he zips up over his bare chest, then slips on his Vans and tiptoes down the hall and then down the stairs. He grabs his mother’s car keys from the bowl on the table in the entryway, and slips as silently as he can out the front door.

The streets are mostly empty at this late hour, so Louis luckily manages to snag a parking space right in front of the club.

He sits in the car for a moment, staring at the large and rather intimidating looking bouncer standing at the entrance, and wondering how he is going to get inside without a fake ID. A sudden tap against his passenger window startles him, and he looks over to see Barbara smiling through the glass at him. He gets out of the car and walks around the front towards her.

“Nice hair,” she comments with a smile.

Self-consciously Louis reaches a hand up to his hair, feeling it sticking up in all sorts of crazy directions. He curses quietly under his breath, running a hand through it and hoping that he isn’t just making it worse.

“Where is he?” he asks finally.

“Well, we were able to at least get him out of the club to keep the owner from calling the cops,” she explains, glancing behind her, “but as you can see, we didn’t make it very far.”

Louis follows her eye line until he spots Harry, just inside the alley way next to the club. He is slumped down on the ground, back against the building, legs pulled tightly to his chest and face hidden against his knees. Cara is kneeling before him, whispering soothing words to him in a low voice and rubbing his shoulder.

When she spots Louis she stands up and walks towards him, handing him Harry’s phone. He tucks it into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Thanks for coming Louis,” Cara says gratefully, “I realize that it’s late, but I just didn’t know who else in his contacts to call.”

“You could have called Nick,” Louis suggests, trying to keep the bitterness from his tone.

“There was no ‘Nick’ in his contacts,” Cara replies, confused, and Louis feels his chest tighten, suddenly understanding why Harry is probably out on an emotional bender in the first place.

He walks over to Harry, kneeling before him and gently placing a hand over his.

“Harry?” he coaxes softly.

Very slowly, Harry raises his head to look at him, his eyes looking completely fogged over and far away. Though he is no longer crying Louis can clearly see the tear tracks still glistening on his cheeks. He looks so pathetically small and broken and Louis’ heart breaks just a little bit at the sight.

“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” Louis suggests, and Harry nods slowly.

Louis wraps an arm under Harry’s and around his back, trying to lift him from the ground, but he is mostly dead weight, and it takes both Cara and Barbara’s added help before they manage to get him into a mostly standing position. They slowly stumble their way over to the car, Barbara breaking away for a moment to open the passenger side door.

Harry is plopped down into the seat with a loud oomph, his eyes closed and face scrunched up as if he is about to be sick.

Louis grabs the seat belt and reaches across Harry to fasten it when Harry suddenly reaches out and grabs Louis by the forearm.

“I’m sorry Lou,” he slurs quietly, chin pressed against his chest and eyes still closed tight.

“Now is not the time for that,” Louis replies firmly, removing Harry’s grip from him and closing the door.

“Well ladies,” he says, turning to face the two girls, “thanks for all your help and I’ve got it from here. I hope you two enjoy the rest of your evening.”

He gives them each a hug before climbing into the driver seat. Harry has the side of his face pressed against the window, and when the engine roars to life he groans loudly, covering his face with his hands.

It’s a quiet drive back to his house, and Louis is fairly positive that Harry has passed out. Once he pulls into the drive way he stops the car and sits there for a moment, trying to decide the easiest way to do this without waking the entire house hold.

He gets out and walks to the passenger side, opening the door slowly so Harry doesn’t fall out, then undoes his seat belt.

“Harry,” Louis says gently, placing a hand on either side of his face, “can you hear me?”

Harry hums slightly, his brows furrowing in concentration though his eyes remain closed.

“If I get you up on my back do you think you could hang on?” Louis asks.

Harry nods, though his head lulls slightly to the side as he does. Louis figures that’s as good of a response that he is going to get. He kneels down before Harry with his back facing him, having to reach behind him and shove Harry’s knee a few times to get him conscious enough to realize what’s going on.

Harry presses himself against Louis’ back, wrapping his arms tightly around his neck and nuzzling his face against the soft and short hairs just behind his ear, taking a deep breath.

Louis struggles to reach back and get his hands behind Harry’s knees, but once he does he swings Harry’s legs around his waist, gripping tightly to keep Harry up on his back, and then he attempts to stand. It’s a struggle, and when he does he nearly topples over with all of Harry’s extra body weight. But he finally finds his balance and makes his way towards the house.

The front door presents an unforeseen difficulty, but that is nothing when compared to the stairs, which is a very slow and tiring process; the unevenly distributed weight makes Louis feel as if he is going to take a tumble backwards on more than one occasion. By the time Louis reaches the top he is completely winded and his legs are shaking.

He gets Harry into his room and drops him a bit gracelessly onto the bed, unable to support his body weight any longer.

Harry curls up against the duvet, legs still hanging off the bed, seeming completely content to sleep in that position, and Louis is almost tempted to let him. He decides against it though, pulling Harry up into a sitting position so he can work his jacket from his shoulders as Harry seems to come to just enough to begin undoing his jeans. He manages to get them pushed down to about his mid thigh before he gives up and flops back against the bed once Louis has his jacket removed.

Louis sighs, kneeling down in front of Harry to pull his large boots from his feet, then work his jeans down the rest of the way, leaving Harry in just his tee shirt and pants. He then hooks his hands underneath Harry’s back, pulling him back up onto the bed as far as he can, swinging Harry’s long legs up on to it as well.

Harry curls in on himself, making a contented little sigh as Louis covers him with the duvet. He places an empty trashcan beside the bed just to be safe, and then makes his way back down stairs.

Louis feels so wound up, and decides to make himself a cup of tea, sitting at the kitchen table and watching as the steam swirls up from his mug.

Only a few short hours ago Louis was so angry with Harry, and now here he is, a complete mess and passed out in Louis’ bed. Louis’ glad he could help, there is no way that he wouldn’t have, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t still a bit pissed and hurt.

He sips his tea slowly, the warm liquid pooling in his tummy and making exhaustion find him once more. With a yawn he places his cup into the sink and heads back upstairs.

Harry is curled up against the wall, most of the duvet piled up on top of him, snoring gently. Louis lays down next to him, still in all his clothes and not even bothering to try and get some of the duvet to share. He turns with his back towards Harry, closes his eyes, and soon drifts off to sleep.

*

 

Louis is far too warm, and unable to move. His eyes flutter open slowly, and he sees that his room is still dark, so he can’t have been asleep for too long. He tries to shift but instead feels himself being pulled back against something warm and solid, and he freezes at the realization that there is someone else in the bed with him, until he remembers about Harry.

Harry, who seems to have cuddled up to Louis in his sleep, clinging to him like a baby kola to a tree. Their legs are intertwined and Harry has his arms wrapped tight around Louis’ middle, large hands up under his hoodie and spread out against the soft skin of his tummy, keeping them pressed closely together. Harry’s face is nuzzled up behind him, and Louis can feel his hot breath on the sensitive skin where his neck and shoulders connect.

“Lou,” Harry breathes out lowly, voice laced with sleep, before his quiet little snores resume.

Louis just lays there for a moment, trying to decide what to do. He can’t really move, not without waking Harry up, but his heart rate is far too rapid for him to even attempt falling back asleep now.

Harry nuzzles closer then, and Louis can feel the light drag of his lips against Louis’ skin, causing his heart to actually stutter in his chest. Harry shifts a bit more until he stops, applying a bit of pressure, leaving a hot, opened mouth kiss lightly on top of Louis’ exposed shoulder.

Louis holds his breath, too scared to move, too scared to ask what is going on, and too scared that it will soon stop.

Harry moves again, this time placing the gentle kisses to the back of Louis’ neck, and a happy little hum leaves him, as he pulls Louis’ body even further against his own.

And that’s when Louis feels him, hot and hard and pressed up against the lower part of Louis’ bum. A shiver runs up his entire body before it tenses, a surprised squeak involuntarily leaving his lips. Harry freezes, seeming to have come into full consciousness.

They both stay completely still for what feels like an eternity, then Harry is untangling his limbs from Louis’, and the warmth of his body disappears. Louis takes a deep breath before he slowly rolls around to face him.

Harry is now as far away form Louis as possible on the small bed, his back pressed up against the wall, eyes wide and slightly glazed as he watches Louis closely. He looks a bit unsure of exactly where he is or what’s going on, almost scared even, and Louis hates it. He wants to make that look disappear.

Tentatively he reaches forward, taking Harry’s hand in his, and slotting their fingers together. Harry’s eyes dart from Louis’ face to their conjoined hands and back again, seeming unsure of what to do.

Louis scoots forward slightly, bringing their joined hands towards him until the back of Harry’s hand is pressed up against his chest, right above his frantic heart beat.

A small glimmer of hope shines deep within Harry’s eyes as he too scoots forward, but he’s still watching Louis carefully, making sure that it is okay. Louis leans backwards until he is laying flat on his back, pulling Harry along until he is hovering over him.

They stare at each other, both questioning as to what the other wants but too afraid to ask, too afraid that the slightest thing could shatter the fragile moment. Louis’ eyes flick from Harry’s eyes to his lips and that seems to be all the encouragement Harry needs before he is dipping down, gently brushing his mouth against Louis’, a feather soft touch of lips to lips.

Louis feels like his nerves are catching fire, and he realizes just how badly he has wanted this. Everything is too much yet still not enough and before he knows it his free hand makes its way to the back of Harry’s head, his fingers twisting within the soft curls at the nape of Harry's neck, and he’s pushing him closer, increasing the pressure of their still gentle kiss. Louis swears that he can feel Harry trembling beneath his touch.

Harry works his pillow soft mouth against Louis’, slow and sweet, tongue grazing lightly along Louis’ bottom lip until he parts them gently and gains entrance, tilting his head to the side as he licks into his mouth, trying to taste every last bit of him.

Louis gives back as much as he receives, letting himself explore Harry, to touch and to taste. He pulls Harry’s bottom lip into his mouth, lightly sinking his teeth into the soft flesh and swallowing the strangled moan that vibrates through Harry’s entire being.

Harry pulls back from him and Louis tries to follow, not wanting to leave his space. But Harry breaks contact, his hands grasping at the hem of his shirt as he hastily, and a bit clumsily, rips it up over his head and tosses it to the floor. Harry’s pale chest practically glows in the darkness of the room, the black ink of his tattoos a stark contrast that Louis is dying to run his tongue over.

Louis leans up slightly, fumbling a bit with the zip of his hoodie before working it down, pulling his arms from the sleeves and shoving the article of clothing from the bed.

Harry stares down at him, eyes unblinking and hungry, before he pounces back on Louis, lips crashing together, no longer chaste. Louis’ hands return to the dark curls, tugging slightly and he moans loudly as Harry’s lips leave his and instead connect to the sensitive skin of his neck. Louis tilts his head to give him easier access, and Harry bites and sucks a mark into his soft skin before soothing over it with a swipe of his tongue.

Harry sucks a few more bruising marks into Louis’ neck and collarbones before Harry pushes Louis’ legs open, settling in between them, hands grasping firmly at his hips.

He trails his kisses slowly down Louis’ chest, catching his nipple gently between his teeth, causing Louis to hiss. His lips lightly drag over the soft skin of his belly, placing a gentle kiss just below his navel and right above his waistline, and Louis’ whole body shakes.

“God Harry,” he pants, throwing his head back against the pillow with eyes closed, feeling his erection growing and straining against the fabric of his pants and sweats.

Almost frantically Harry grabs the waist of both, shoving them down to Louis’ ankles, struggling for a moment to pull them off his feet, while Louis lays there, fully exposed, erection thick and hard against his belly. He forgets to feel self-conscious about it though, too overcome by want.

Harry leans back over Louis, hips aligned perfectly against his, hand sliding back into Louis’ and pressing it into the mattress above them.

“Please Lou,” Harry begs into Louis’ ear before pressing a kiss against his jaw, “Say that again.”

“Harry,” Louis moans breathily, voice low and utterly wrecked.

Harry grinds his hips down, the friction of Harry’s clothed erection over his own bare one causing Louis’ to choke on a gasp deep in his throat, back arching up off the mattress.

“God, you are so beautiful,” Harry pants against Louis’ lips as he stares down at him, pupils blown with lust and hips grinding against Louis’ in quick tight circles, “you look so good like this. So amazing Lou.”

“Fuck,” Louis gasps out, feeling a spasm ripple through him as his free hand claws desperately at Harry’s back, hard enough that he is sure he’s broken the skin. He knows he won’t be lasting much longer.

Harry hisses before latching himself to Louis’ throat, sucking hard and causing Louis’ eyes to roll back into his head as the pleasure/pain crashes through his body like waves. The grip on their conjoined hands tightens, Louis’ nails digging little half moons into the back of Harry’s hand.

Louis feels the familiar tightening in his gut, tires to give out some sort of warning, but all that seems to be leaving his lips is some incoherent babble.

Harry continues to rut against him as his hand slides between the two of them, long fingers barely wrapping around Louis before he’s seeing stars explode behind his eye lids, his dick twitching as he comes, spilling hot all over Harry’s hand as Louis chokes on his name.

“Oh my God,” Louis groans as the final bits of his orgasm rock through him. He opens his eyes to see Harry hovering over him, panting hard as he stares down at Louis intently, hand working furiously within his pants. Louis pulls Harry down towards him and captures his lips with his.

Harry moans Louis’ name into mouth and his body jerks before going a bit stiff. He gives a little bit of a whine before collapsing onto Louis, breathing heavy against the skin of his neck. Neither of them moves nor speaks, coming down from their orgasms as they listen to each other’s harsh breaths and frantically beating hearts slowly return to normal.

Harry pulls back a bit and gazes down at Louis, his eyes soft and fond as he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. He gently pushes Louis’ sweaty fringe back from his face, his thumb lightly trailing along Louis’ check bone. He grins happily before leaning forward, pressing a soft kiss to Louis’ forehead.

Harry shifts onto his side, wrapping his arms around Louis and pulling him towards his chest, burying his face within his hair.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” Harry mumbles quietly near his ear. “I have been wanting this since the very first moment I saw you.”

Louis gives a content little hum, pressing his lips lightly to Harry’s sternum. He thinks he understands exactly how he feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... sorry this took so long. The shitty thing is I had practically this whole thing written days ago, but then I went to visit a friend and ended up staying at their house for like five days, so I never had the time to get back to it. But it's done now, wooooo!
> 
> I'm curious to know what everyone thinks of the second part of the chapter, because honestly I'm a bit nervous about it. I usually struggle trying to translate the visuals in my head into words when it comes to sex scenes. I hope the scene was understandable though and at least a little bit sexy for all of you ;)
> 
> Thank you for your patience and I love you all! :D


	11. I Hurl Into The Moment Like I'm Standing At The Edge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song "Falling" by Haim

Louis rolls over, half asleep, his arm reaching out across the empty mattress as a slight pain twinges throughout his sore muscles. He opens his eyes against the bright light of the day, glancing around for Harry, or some other sign that last night had not been merely some an extremely vivid dream. Though the younger boy is nowhere to been seen, his clothes and shoes are still scattered about the floor, so Louis figures he can’t have gotten too far.

With a big stretch that results in a couple of loud cracks from Louis’ lower back, he rolls out of bed, stumbling a bit as he retrieves his sweats, which are half hanging off his dresser from where they’d been chucked the previous night.

Louis catches a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, and groans loudly when he notices that mass amounts of dark purple splotches littering his neck and chest. He throws on his hoodie, zipping it all the way to the top then throwing up the hood, hoping that’ll keep most of the love bites from view.

He makes his way down stairs, noticing that the house is oddly quiet. In the doorway to the kitchen he halts, gazing at the odd scene set before him. Fizzy, Phoebe and Daisy are sat at the table, plates before them piled high with blueberry pancakes, munching away at them happily, their smiling little faces sticky with syrup.

Harry is standing at the stove with his back towards Louis, appearing to be cooking up another round of pancakes. He is shirtless, and seems to have grabbed a pair of Louis’ flannel pajama bottoms to wear, for there is a good three inches of exposed ankle showing at the bottom of the too short legs. Harry’s back is lined with long, angry looking scratches that Louis realizes were caused by him, and that thought makes his cheeks warm and stomach flip uncomfortably.

Lottie is sat up on the counter next to where Harry is working, chatting to him as he cooks up the food. She’s leaning towards him, giggling and batting her eyelashes at him, and it kind of makes Louis want to throw up.

He clears his throat loudly, and all faces turn towards him at once.

“Louis!” Harry greets brightly, his curls in absolute disarray, and a slight smudge of flour on his cheek near his dimple. Louis wishes he didn’t find it so endearing.

“Hey Haz,” Louis all but whispers, suddenly feeling very shy.

Harry smiles at Louis for a rather long moment before he picks up the plate of pancakes he’s just finished making and shoves them towards Lottie.

“How about you and your sisters go eat in the living room?” he suggests, “Maybe put on a movie or something?”

Lottie looks disappointed for a moment before flashing him her flirtiest smile. “Okay. Feel free to join us once you’re done cooking, yeah?”

Then she hops down from the counter, over exaggerating the sway of her hips as she follows her sisters out of the kitchen.

Louis strides over to Harry quickly, playfully poking him the chest. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Harry laughs innocently.

Louis sighs, rolling his eyes. “Don’t play stupid with me Haz. You can’t just go walking around my house all half naked and cooking and shit. Lottie’s in that weird overly hormonal teenage phase, and I fear that you may cause her drool all over the house and ruin our good floors.”

“Are you seriously jealous because you’re little sister was flirting with me?” Harry asks, clearly amused. All Louis can do is sputter in reply, face turning three shades of red.

With a light chuckle Harry leads Louis towards the table, gesturing for him to sit down. Once Harry turns his attention back to his cooking Louis asks, “Where’s mum?”

“Her and Mark went out shopping.” Harry replies as he pours more batter onto the griddle. “She said though it’s lovely to see me that next time she would like to be made aware of that fact that I am staying over. I promised to feed her children as an apology.”

Louis hums in response.

After a couple more minutes Harry sets down a plate of steaming, fluffy looking pancakes in front of Louis, smiling down at him expectantly.

“Aren’t you going to have any?” Louis asks.

Harry barks out a laugh before cringing. “Absolutely not. I’ve already thrown up twice this morning.”

Louis nods, then cuts off a bit of pancake and brings it up to his mouth, very aware of the way Harry’s eyes track the movement. He can’t help the satisfied little hum that leaves his lips as he chews, the pancake the perfect combination of sweet and buttery. Harry practically beams down at him.

“So, Haz,” Louis manages after he swallows, “about last night-“

“No.” Harry says firmly with a shake of his head, curls bouncing. “Eat first. Then we’ll talk.”

Louis nods and gets to work on his pancakes as Harry starts to clean up the mess he made while cooking. Once Louis has sufficiently stuffed his face Harry grabs the plate and begins washing it in the sink, while Louis excuses himself to the bathroom.

Louis feels nervous and wound up tight, so he splashes cold water on his face a few times, taking deep breaths in attempt to calm himself. He quickly brushes his teeth to rid himself of what he’s sure is a horrific case of morning breath, then brings his hood down from his head and stares at the mess that is his hair.

He runs his hands through it repeatedly, trying to get it to appear somewhat presentable without having to put any product in it; he doesn’t want Harry to think he’s trying too hard. With one more glance at his reflection and a deep breath, he makes his way back to his bedroom.

When he enters he discovers Harry sat cross-legged on his bed, gazing out the window, looking about a million miles away. Louis closes the door behind him, then leans against it, watching Harry intently. He’s not sure if it’s okay for him to approach him or not, so he stays there, waiting.

“Did you know that Nick and I were never really _together_?” Harry asks after a long moment, eyes never leaving the window.

“What?” Louis asks, caught off guard by the question. This wasn’t what he had been expecting.

Harry turns slowly to meet Louis’ eyes, his face unreadable, then he shrugs. “Well, that’s what he told me anyways when I went over to his house yesterday and found him fucking somebody else.”

In a split second Louis has crossed the room, sitting across from Harry on the bed with their folded knees touching, and he takes up one of Harry’s hands in both of his.

“I’m so, so sorry Haz,” he says quietly.

Harry just shrugs again, staring down at their conjoined hands. “He told me that if I’d really believed that we were something serious that was my own fault and I was just too naïve to understand how _adult_ relationships work.”

“That’s bullshit!” Louis snaps, anger bubbling up within him. “He’s an absolute twat who’s just trying to make you feel responsible for his own shitty actions.”

Harry hums, nodding his head. “Yeah. That’s why I ended it with him. Completely.”

Louis squeezes Harry’s hand reassuringly. “I’m sorry Harry. I know you really liked him.”

Harry’s brows furrow as he looks up a Louis. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Louis shifts a bit uncomfortably, “you were pretty upset when I picked you up last night.”

Harry blinks at him a few times, before a small, fond smile spreads across his face. “Oh Lou, you are so stupid sometimes.”

“What?” Louis sputters, taken aback.

Harry chuckles lightly, placing his hands gently on either side of Louis’ face, staring into his eyes intently, green meeting blue.

“The only reason I was with Nick in the first place was because I couldn’t be with you,” he confesses quietly.

“What?” Louis repeats dumbly, feeling like there is not enough oxygen in the room.

“I’ve liked you since you ran into me on the first day,” Harry explains, and Louis blushes at the embarrassing memory. Harry notices, his smile widening as he gently traces his thumb across the rosiness of Louis’ cheek. “You are so beautiful Lou, seriously. You completely took my breath away that day. And then I got to know you, and you are just so smart and hilarious and sweet, plus you can go toe to toe with Gemma without batting an eye, and I find that fucking sexy as hell.”

“Oh.” Louis breathes out quietly, stunned.

Harry slowly removes his hands from Louis’ face, adverting his eyes. His cheeks turn pink as he rushes on, “I knew you had a girlfriend, but I… I still wanted to be close to you, even if as just a friend. But then I thought you and Gemma were dating… and I was so mad, like irrationally so. I knew Nick a bit through friends, so I asked him out instead of going to Homecoming more or less out of jealousy.”

Harry glances at Louis out of the corner of his eye, and Louis places his hands over Harry’s where they rest between their laps, intertwining their fingers.

Harry takes a deep breath before continuing, “When I found out you guys weren’t dating I felt pretty stupid, but I figured it was a good idea to just keep dating Nick, cause I did like him, though, probably not as much as I should have. Plus, he was a pretty good distraction from pining after someone I clearly couldn’t have, because honestly, I had always just sort of assumed you were straight. But then at the Halloween party-“

“I don’t remember much about that night,” Louis cuts in, lowering his gaze, “I’m sorry for what ever I did.”

“No, Lou. No.” Harry assures him quickly, grip tightening on Louis’ hands, causing him to look up and meet Harry’s earnest eyes, “You didn’t do anything. Nothing at all. You were just… _so close_ , and it was almost painful how hard it was not to just kiss you right then and there and ruin everything. So I figured maybe it would be best to put some distance between the two of us for a while.”

“Is that why you told Ed I was sick?” Louis asks meekly, the sting of the situation still rather fresh.

Harry’s face pales a bit as he asks sheepishly, “You knew about that?”

“I ran into Ed in town yesterday,” Louis explains, staring intently at a small grass stain on the knee of his sweats.

“I’m so sorry Lou.” Harry mumbles, voice sad.

Louis nods, continuing to avoid Harry’s gaze. He laughs a bit humorlessly. “You know, I thought you didn’t like me anymore, and I just couldn’t figure out what it was that I had done wrong.”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” Harry reassures, sounding a bit desperate, “God, I’m so sorry if I hurt you. I just… I don’t know. I didn’t think you’d really care if we weren’t spending as much time together. I mean, you have other friends. You have Gemma.”

Louis finally looks up at Harry then, taking a deep breath before quietly admitting, “Yeah, but they aren’t you.”

Louis watches Harry’s adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows audibly, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth as he gazes intensely at Louis’ mouth.

Louis clears his throat, drawing back Harry’s attention.

“So then what exactly happened last night?” Louis asks.

Harry shrugs. “I don’t know. I mean, I was a bit upset about what had happened with Nick, but mostly I was just so fucking overwhelmed by everything thing with you, and… it just seemed like a good decision to try to drink away my feelings.”

“Excellent decision,” Louis smirks.

“Well, considering how last night ended, I’d say so,” Harry replies, looking smug.

Louis’ cheeks grow warm as his mind floods with images of the previous night; the feel of their sweaty bodies pressed together and Harry’s soft lips all over his skin and the way they had gasped and moaned quietly into the darkness of his room.

“I’m not gay,” Louis finds himself blurting suddenly, and watches as Harry’s face falls.

“But I do know that I like you,” he amends quickly, gently squeezing Harry’s hands, “I like being around you, and kissing you is one of the most explosive sensations I’ve ever experienced in my life. So, I don’t know what that means exactly, but I do know that I don’t want, whatever this is, to stop.”

Harry gently rubs one of his thumbs along the inside of Louis’ wrist.

“I know it’s scary, Lou,” Harry says quietly, “but I would like for us to try, please? We don’t have to say anything to people yet, just hang out and see how it goes and how we feel.”

His jade eyes are large and pleading, and Louis finds it impossible to look away.

“Okay,” he replies a bit breathlessly.

Harry face breaks into a heart stopping grin before he’s launching himself at Louis, the two of them flopping back onto the mattress in a mess of giggles and limbs. And then Harry is kissing Louis, and time seems to fucking stand still. He doesn’t feel like kissing Harry is something he can ever get used to, it is just too amazing.

One of Harry’s hands lightly tangles into Louis’ hair while the other grips firmly to his hip, thumb tracing gentle circles against the delicate skin.

“Don’t forget my sisters are just down stairs,” Louis mumbles in warning against Harry’s lips.

“I can kiss them later,” Harry jokes, smiling into the kiss.

Louis swats at his shoulder playfully, unable to suppress the giggle that bubbles forth from his lips.

Harry pulls back and nuzzles his face up against Louis’ neck, mumbling, “Perhaps we should continue this another time then and go down stairs to join them?”

Louis nods, and Harry climbs up off him, hand outstretched to help pull Louis up to his feet. Louis’ eyes are bright and his cheeks flushed and he can’t remember the last time he felt such butterflies over the prospects of starting something new.

“I love the way your eyes crinkle when you smile,” Harry states quietly, eyes soft as he gazes down at Louis fondly, “it’s how I can tell when you’re really happy.”

Louis smiles widens at that, flattered beyond belief that Harry notices such minute details about him. He steps in close, standing up on his tiptoes to press a soft kiss to Harry’s lips.

“You need to put a shirt on before we go back downstairs,” Louis mumbles after he pulls away, tracing a finger lightly across the cluster of tattoos on Harry’s upper arm. Harry seems to tremble under the touch.

“Or maybe we should just stay up here after all,” Harry suggests in a low voice, his eyes darkening with lust.

“Put a shirt on now, young man,” Louis giggles, pushing Harry chest. Harry pouts before nodding, searching Louis’ floor for his tee shirt.

They make their way down to the living room where the twins are sprawled out on the floor, Fizzy in the recliner, and Lottie on the far corner of the couch. While the other three girls are fully engrossed in the movie (looks to be Beauty and the Beast), Lottie is looking utterly bored. She perks up instantly though once she spots Harry in the doorway.

“Oh hey,” she coos, “glad you boys decided to join us.”

Louis flops down onto the opposite side of the couch, eyes narrowed at his sister, not that she notices. She is all in a tither over the fact that Harry is going to be sitting between them, flipping her hair over her shoulder and smoothing out the front of her shirt.

But then Harry throws both of them a curve ball by plopping down on the floor in front of Louis, back leaning up against his legs.

Louis tries to hide his smug grin behind his hand as his sister pouts on the other end of the couch, staring at the back of Harry’s head longingly. Louis tucks his toes up under Harry’s thighs, and he notices the edges of Harry’s lips twitch upwards. Harry, probably thinking he is being rather sneaky (he’s not), slowly brings his hand back and gently traces his thumb along the bone for Louis’ ankle.

They go back and forth like this for a while, stealing secret touches and trying to make the other smile, and by the time the movie comes to an end Louis is practically beside himself with giddiness.

The twins waste no time once the credits begin to roll, pouncing on Harry and demanding that he play dress up with them.

“Of course my darlings,” Harry smiles, more than happy to oblige them.

One silver sequined dress and purple feather boa later and Harry is jumping around the living room with the twins, all of them singing “Call Me Maybe” at the top of their lungs, leaving the other three in near hysterics.

Louis takes the opportunity to sneakily snap a few embarrassing pictures of his own to make up for the ones Harry has of him in the tiara and make up.

Not long after Harry changes back into his own clothes and they clean up the living room Jay and Mark return from shopping, and Harry decides it’s probably time for him to be heading home. Louis walks him out onto the front porch, and they stand there for a moment just smiling at each other.

“So I’ll see you at school?” Harry says with a tilt of his head, eyes sparkling.

“Absolutely,” Louis responds, feeling ready to burst at the seams with happiness.

Harry ducks down, pressing a quick and gentle kiss to Louis’ lips before taking off down the driveway. Louis watches him walk down the street and waits until he is no longer in view before heading back into the house.

As Louis reaches the bottom of the stairs Lottie appears from within the living room.

“Hey Louis, can I ask you something?” she asks tentatively.

“Sure,” Louis replies, turning to face her.

Lottie stares down at her hands as she wrings them nervously. “I realize he’s, like, four years older then me but, like, what do you think my chances are of getting Harry to go out with me? Like, do you think I even have a shot?”

At first Louis just blinks at her a few times, unsure of how to respond. Then, despite his best efforts to contain it, he erupts into a fit on manic laughter. He just shakes his head and continues on up the stairs, still laughing uncontrollably.

“Well you don’t have to be such a twat about it!” Lottie yells up the stairs after him with a stomp of her foot, fuming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much talking in this chapter, my goodness. Hope everyone is still enjoying the story, and just a heads up the next few chapters may take sometime to be posted only because I don't have them completely planned out yet.
> 
> Love you much! :)


	12. You're More Than In My Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song "You Are The One" by Shiny Toy Guns

“So, my brother told me about what happened the other night.”

Louis pauses where he stands by his bed, homework shoved midway into his backpack. His heart skids in his chest before it begins beating frantically, sending a loud rush of blood pumping past his ears as he swallows hard.

“Hmm?” Louis tries to feign innocence.

“Yeah,” Gemma remarks, casually leaning against the doorframe of Louis’ bedroom. “I just wanted to say thanks for going and rescuing the big idiot. Especially since I know you weren’t in the best of _moods_ the other night.”

“Oh,” Louis breaths out a sigh of relief, “yeah, wasn’t a big deal. Really.”

Gemma narrow her eyes at him, smirk over taking her features. “I am _thanking you_ Tomlinson, and this doesn’t happen often. So you better fucking appreciate it.”

Louis chuckles lightly. “I do, believe me. And I’m sorry for acting like such a dick. I just-“

“It doesn’t matter.” Gemma interrupts, “You can blame it on PMS for all that I care. As long as you’re over it.”

Louis nods. “I am.”

Gemma grins broadly. “Good. Now can we please get a move on before we’re late to school?”

Louis finishes packing his bag and the two of them head down stairs and out the front door. Outside Louis notices that Gemma’s car is sitting empty in the driveway.

“Where’s Harry this morning?” Louis asks, hoping he’s coming off as casual.

“He had to go in early to help Zayn with some art project,” Gemma replies distractedly as she digs around in her bag for her keys.

Louis nods, feeling guilt begin to pool up in the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t want to keep any secrets from Gemma, but the thought of telling her about Harry scares the ever-living shit out of him, and not just because of the bodily harm she would undoubtedly cause him. He’s not fully sure if he has admitted everything to himself yet, so just the idea of letting someone else know makes the whole thing seem far too real for his liking.

Louis watches the town speed past his window as they drive to the school, and he wonders what Harry is doing right now. Is he thinking about Louis? He hasn’t seen Harry since the day he left his house… what if he’s changed his mind since then? Sure, Harry has sent him the odd text here and there, but they’ve only really been random emojis and who knows what those are even supposed to mean. Harry is a complete mystery to Louis. An exhilarating, terrifying mystery.

“I’m thinking cement shoes,” Gemma’s words break through Louis’ thoughts.

“What?” Louis replies blankly, turning to face her.

Gemma sighs, rolling her eyes dramatically. “I’m talking about revenge, Tomlinson. The best way to get back at that bastard Nick for what he did to my brother. I swear to God, if I ever decide to commit a real crime you’d be the worst sidekick ever. Our arses would end up in jail for sure and I’d have no doubt it’d be entirely your fault.”

“Probably,” Louis responds with a shrug, “you are the brains after all. I’m just here to look pretty.”

Once at school Gemma heads into the office to take care of some of her "presidential duties" and Louis goes off to his locker on his own. He’s too preoccupied with attempting to shove his chemistry book inside to notice the long shadow fall over him.

“Good morning Lou,” Harry whispers close to his ear, causing the shorter boy to jump.

“God, Haz,” Louis squeaks, spinning around to face him, “you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry replies, though the smile he wears suggests that he is not the least bit sorry.

Louis feels himself warm under Harry’s gaze, and is pretty positive that he can hear the way Louis’ pulse quickens beneath his skin every time Harry is within close proximity.

“How was the rest of your weekend?” Louis asks, feeling nervous and needing to fill the silence.

“Good,” Harry hums, eyes burrowing into Louis’, unblinking, “Filled with lots of nice thoughts and lovely dreams.”

Louis is finding it extremely difficult to breathe.

“I want to take you out to dinner,” Harry states suddenly, smiling.

“W-what?” Louis stammers, caught off guard.

Harry’s smile widens as he takes a step closer to Louis. “I want to take you to dinner, like on a proper date. Tonight, if you’re available?”

Louis’ brain seems to have forgotten how to form words, and Harry’s grin widens even further as he waits patiently for a reply. Finally, Louis manages a small nod.

Harry reaches forward, hooking a finger through Louis’ belt loop and pulling him in closer, eyes sparkling mischievously. “Good, I’ll pick you up at eight then.”

Louis swallows, completely lost in Harry’s steady gaze.

Harry’s eyes flick up to something over Louis’ shoulder, and then suddenly he’s letting Louis go, taking a step back. Before Louis gets the chance to mourn the loss of closeness Gemma and Niall suddenly appear at his side.

“I hope you were discussing some way to thank Louis for helping you out the other night,” Gemma says sternly, eyes narrowed at her younger brother.

“Actually, that’s exactly what I was doing,” Harry counters with a cheeky grin.

“Good,” Niall laughs, throwing an arm around Louis’ shoulder and ruffling his hair with his free hand. Louis tries to swat him away. “We wouldn’t want you to take advantage of our Tommo’s kindness.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Harry’s eyes are soft as he says the words, and Louis feels himself shiver all the way down to his toes despite the sudden heat he feels.

“Well, I must be off, education and such,” Harry announces to the group, before looking pointedly at Louis, “I’ll see you later.”

Louis watches at he walks off down the hallway, hoping he doesn’t look quite the lovesick fool that he feels like.

“Harry seems in a much better mood now that he and Nick have broken up,” Niall comments happily.

“Indeed,” Gemma agrees, “Nick was no good for him anyways. Too damn full of himself. Don’t you think, Louis?”

And Gemma gives him _that_ look, the one that says she’s the smartest person in the room and that she knows everything that’s going on, at all times, _always._

“Yeah,” Louis nods, trying to tell himself he’s just being paranoid. If Gemma really did think anything was going on, he is fairly positive that she’d never let him hear the end of it, after a rather vicious slap upside the head.

*

 

Louis can’t stop pacing. The entire contents of his wardrobe lay in piles upon his bedroom floor, and he contemplates changing for the twelfth time. What is wrong with him? It’s not like Harry is unaware of what he looks like on a normal everyday basis.

He glances at his reflection once more, carefully eyeing his outfit. He had chosen his nice, dark grey jumper with the low-neck line (because, despite the fact that Nick is the absolute scum of the earth, he was correct in his statement about Louis having rather amazing collarbones), a tight pair of maroon skinnies that make his ass look flawless and his white Vans. He looks good, he knows it, but his insecurities keep nagging at him that it isn’t good enough, and _he_ isn’t good enough, and why the fuck does Harry like him in the first place? Why?

In an attempt to escape the panic he can feel bubbling up his throat he makes a mad dash from his room, deciding that it’ll probably just be best to wait for Harry outside, for the cool night air will probably do a great deal to help soothe his frazzled nerves.

At about five to eight Louis sees Gemma’s car round the corner at the end of his street and the panic returns for a moment, before he notices Harry in the driver seat, completely and utterly alone.

Louis walks up to the car as Harry pulls up in front of his house, rolling down the window to pout at Louis.

“I was going to come to the door and ask for you like a proper suitor and everything,” he whines, giving Louis his best puppy-dog eyes.

Knots tighten in Louis’ stomach at the thought of Harry telling his mother he is taking Louis out on a _date._ He is definitely not ready for that sort of announcement, especially if it isn’t coming from himself.

“I was too excited to wait inside,” Louis replies, and though it’s not entirely a lie, he still can’t help but feel a bit guilty when Harry beams at him brightly.

Louis quickly hops into the passenger seat, then raises a questioning eyebrow and asks, “How’d you get Gemma to let you borrow her car?”

Harry shrugs. “I just told her I had a date. She said as long as it wasn’t Nick she’d be more than happy to let me borrow it.”

Louis continues to stare at him before Harry adds on, “And she said that if anything happened to it she’d hang me by my toes in the basement.”

Louis’ brows furrowed in confusion. “Does your house even have a basement?”

“No,” Harry replies simply.

Louis lets out a bark of laugher, shaking his head. That definitely sounded like Gemma.

Harry reaches across the center counsel, lacing his fingers up with Louis’, causing a warm flush to creep up the side of Louis’ neck, before he puts the car back into drive and they take off down the street.

They arrive at a small, but very nice Italian restaurant, a hidden gem that Harry says Ed had introduced him to a few months back. They are taken to a rather private booth in the back corner, away from the kitchen, and instead of sitting on the bench across from him Harry slides in right next to Louis, reminding him vaguely of the night back at the diner just a couple of nights ago. Only this time Harry has his hand placed firmly on Louis’ thigh under the table, finger tips gently rubbing back and forth dangerously close to Louis’ inseam. Louis’ afraid that his head may just fall off his shoulders before they even get their food.

They chat easily, Harry staring at Louis so attentively, as if he’s the most interesting creature he has ever seen in his life. Harry’s eyes are so wide and bright, and Louis gets lost in them so easily, swirling around in the different shades of green until he realizes that he has stopped speaking mid sentence and blushes with embarrassment.

And Louis makes Harry laugh so easily, the sound magical and booming. Louis thinks if he could spend the rest of his life just making Harry laugh he would be perfectly content.

When their food arrives Harry actually tries to feed Louis.

“You ridiculous romantic sap,” Louis laughs, but Harry just pouts and Louis is powerless before it, reluctantly opening his mouth and allowing Harry to slowly bring the fork full of pasta up to his lips.

The sauce is incredible, and Louis gives a pleased little hum from the back of his throat.

“How is it?” Harry asks, voice low and eyes staring hungrily at Louis’ mouth.

“Perfect,” Louis replies breathlessly.

Harry slowly brings his hand up to Louis’ face, thumb brushing gently across the corner of his mouth to wipe at a bit of sauce that had gathered there. Louis turns his face towards Harry’s hand, catching his thumb between his lips and lightly licking at the excess sauce. Louis internally smirks when he hears Harry’s breathe hitch.

“Let’s eat quickly,” Harry purrs, and Louis nods, feeling dazed and tingly all over.

They finish eating their meals in near silence, the only sound heard being their forks as they clank against their plates as the two boys practically devour each other with their eyes. Harry pays and they both rush out to the car, Harry fumbling to pull the keys from his pocket. Louis doesn’t give him a chance to unlock the door though, for he is overcome with a sudden bout of courage, pushing Harry back up against the car and attacking him with his lips right there in the middle of the parking lot.

Harry’s large hands grip Louis’ hips a bit desperately, holding his body firmly against his.

“In. Car. Now.” Harry pants between kisses, and reluctantly Louis steps back to allow Harry to unlock the door before the two of them scramble into the back seat, Harry pressing Louis down onto the upholstery as their lips reclaim each other.

Harry cups the side of Louis’ face as the kiss deepens, and Louis slips his hands up underneath Harry’s shirt, fingers trailing lightly across the soft skin at the small of his back.

“Is this too fast for a first date?” Harry mumbles between kisses, gently nibbling at Louis’ bottom lip.

Louis hums as he arches up into Harry’s touch. “Think that ship has already sailed,” he pants in response.

Harry grins into the kiss, hand slipping in between the two of them, pressing his palm firmly against Louis’ half hard bulge. A small whimper escapes Louis as his body suddenly stills.

“Is this okay?” Harry asks quietly as he pulls back to gaze down at Louis curiously.

Louis blushes fiercely, adverting his eyes. “Yeah, no it’s fine, I just…”

Harry’s brows furrow in concern, and he places a finger under Louis’ chin, tilting his head up so that he’s forced to meet his eyes. “What is it?” he asks quietly, voice serious.

Louis swallows nervously before speaking in a rush, “It’s just, besides the other night… I’ve never, you know, done this type of thing before. And, I… I want to try something.”

“What ever you want baby,” Harry assures him, unable to keep the fondness from his voice. He sits back and leans against the door, watching Louis expectantly.

Louis sits up slightly, leaning back on his elbows, as he chews at his bottom lip nervously. “I’m sorry if it’s not very… good. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

Harry reaches out and grabs Louis by the shoulders, pulling him up into his lap and giving him a slow, passionate kiss. Then he pulls back, foreheads pressed together as he brings his hands up to gently cup the sides of Louis’ face.

“Don’t worry babe,” Harry mummers softly, warm breath ghosting over Louis’ lips, “I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”

Louis nods, taking in a shuddery breath. He slowly pulls back, eyes traveling up and down Harry’s body, trying to ignore the frantic increase of his heartbeat as he reaches a tentative hand forward to press against Harry’s prominent bulge. Harry hums deep in the back of his throat, eyes fluttering shut. Louis takes that as a sign of encouragement, and with a shy smile on his lips he gives Harry a slight squeeze.

All the air in Harry’s lungs rushes from him in a single exhale as he opens his eyes to gaze up at Louis, pupils blown wide. Louis finds it impossible to look away as he fumbles with Harry’s zipper and frees his erection from the restricting confides of his impossibly tight jeans.

Louis gently wraps his hand around Harry’s member as Harry lets out a low hiss. Louis’ mouth feels dry as he suddenly realizes that there is a dick in his hand that isn’t his own. He shakes slightly with nerves as he slowly begins to rub up and down, trying to remember all the things he likes himself to try out on Harry. He gently thumbs underneath the head, and smiles when Harry responds with a rather strangled moan.

Louis increases the speed of his strokes, becoming more confident as he thumbs over the slit to smear the precum that has gathered there, using it to slick up Harry's member and ease the uncomfortable friction of his dry hand. Louis twists his wrist in a way that always seems to do it for himself, and is rather pleased by response he receives from Harry.

“ _God Lou_ ,” Harry huffs out, grabbing Louis roughly to yank him forward, mouths crashing together.

They continues to kiss, hot and messy, Louis working Harry over until Harry’s thighs begin to shake beneath Louis.

“Wait, wait,” Harry states, pulling away from Louis’ mouth and licking his lips.

Louis’ hand stills as he pants heavily, watching Harry and waiting for further instruction.

Harry reaches for Louis’ pants, quickly opening them up and releasing Louis’ own erection that had been growing paining hard within the fabric of his own tight jeans.

Harry grips Louis tightly by the hips, pulling him further into his lap until their cocks brush against each other, and Louis bites back a sob as he head drops down onto Harry’s shoulder.

Harry brings a hand up to his mouth, spitting into his palm before reaching down and wrapping his large hand around both of their erections, pressing the hot flesh together and beginning to stroke at a rather punishing pace.

“Shit, shit,” Louis groans before sinking his teeth into the soft skin of Harry’s shoulder just at the base of his neck, earning a sharp hiss from Harry in return.

Louis feels over heated and the sweet friction of skin on skin fogs his brain to the point where he feels like he is about to pass out. He lifts his head back up, needing to feel Harry’s lips against his own once more, but they are both too far gone to kiss properly, and end up just panting back and forth into each others mouths.

Harry’s body tenses, a string of curses murmured against Louis’ bruised and swollen lips as he spills out into his own hand, using his hot cum to continue to stroke them fast, making it slick and dirty and Louis can feel his toes curl as the muscles tighten deep within his gut.

A few more pulls and Louis follows Harry, hips jerking as his orgasm rocks through him. Harry's hand slows before finally coming to a stop, and Louis collapses against Harry’s chest, fingers curling into the damp fabric of his shirt as he blinks rapidly, trying to get his vision to focus.

Harry hums as he noses at Louis hair, hand lightly trailing up and down Louis’ spin. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get used to this,” Harry admits quietly.

“What do mean?” Louis asks, voice sounding rough and rather fucked out.

“You,” Harry clarifies, “It’s just… so perfect.”

Louis laughs despite himself, too giddy post orgasm to handle the cheesiness that is Harry Styles, no matter how unbearably flattering and charming he finds him.

Harry pouts for only a moment before breaking down into helpless giggles himself, tightly wrapping his arms around Louis and holding him closer still.

It takes a few moments before they finally both calm down, laughter dying away to be replaced by their still shaky but slowing breathes.

Louis tilts his head up and gets a good look at the fogged up window over Harry’s shoulder and it suddenly dawns on him where they are. “Shit, we are still in the middle of the parking lot.”

Harry barks out a laugh, placing a kiss at Louis’ temple before releasing him, the two of them scrambling their way up into the front seats.

Louis tries to adjust himself back into his pants, wincing slightly at the uncomfortable stickiness of it and thinking how much is looking forward to a shower once he gets back to his house.

Harry starts up the car, rolling down the windows to allow the cool night air to whip against their damp and heated skin, before pulling out of the parking lot and heading back towards Louis’ house.

“So,” Harry asks, trying to seem casual, “what do think? Will I get a second date?”

“I’d say your chances are pretty good, yes,” Louis admits, cheeks warm as he smiles wide.

Harry glances at him quickly, dimples deep as he grins happily.

They are sat at a stop signal, waiting for light to change when Harry suddenly mutters a “fuck” into the pleasant silence between them.

“What is it?” Louis questions, raising an eyebrow.

“We just had sex in Gemma’s car,” Harry clarifies.

Louis can feel all the color drain from his face. “Oh shit. You better buy a fucking air freshener or something, cause if she finds out she will kill you, and I can’t have that.”

“Would you miss me?” Harry asks cheekily.

“Shut up and drive Curly,” Louis responds as the light changes, swatting at Harry’s shoulder playfully.

Harry just giggles in response and Louis tries to hide his fond smile against his shoulder as he turns to look out the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO STRANGERS!
> 
> I've had a lot of "life" get in the way of me writing lately, so that's why this chapter took so fucking long. Apologies all around and I will try to get back on a more regular writing schedule, promise.
> 
> Big love and thanks to everyone who has waited around for this, and I hope it doesn't disappoint :D


	13. One Foot In Your Bedroom And One Foot Out The Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song "Hum Hallelujah" by Fall Out Boy

Louis finds something thrilling about being in a secret relationship.

Like when he is sat at the table in the middle of the Styles’ kitchen, pretending like he is paying attention to the flash cards Gemma is going over with him, all the while Harry’s foot is hooked behind his ankle under the table. Harry doesn't look up from his notes, but Louis can see the smug set to his face, and Louis tries so hard not to smile, knowing that if he does Gemma will see right through him in a heartbeat.

The adrenaline of it all makes Louis feel like he’s constantly on edge, worried that perhaps he is being too obvious, and that at any moment he will be caught and forced to bring into the light things he is all too happy to let live in the shadows of his mind. But there’s also an adventure element to it, the rush of knowing that he is getting away with something, and the smug, mischievous little child inside of him loves it.

And there is just something extremely hot knowing that what he and Harry share is only between the two of them, hidden away from the prying eyes of the outside world. If Louis is being perfectly honest with himself, he is far too selfish to want to share Harry with anybody else, even though he realizes that is completely irrational. But every time Harry flashes his dazzling smile at any of their other friends Louis finds himself suddenly gripped with a jealousy the likes of which he has never felt before.

As Louis walks out to their lunch spot on Friday afternoon he sees Harry and Perrie already sat out there, Harry laughing loudly as Perrie puts his hair up into a small little ponytail at the top of his head. Louis wants so badly to rush over and smack her hands away from him.

Instead he bites his tongue, plopping down beside Harry and trying to not to glare daggers at Perrie and she greets him innocently.

“Like the new do?” Harry asks brightly, turning his body slightly so that his attention is fully upon Louis.

“You’re ridiculous,” Louis laughs a bit tightly, unable to hide his jealousy from Harry despite his best efforts, and Harry frowns instantly at his tone. Damn.

Harry looks over to the others as they join the group, brightly contributing to their conversation, but he sneakily slips his hand up the back of Louis’ shirt, rubbing soft, soothing circles into the flesh of his lower back.

Louis calms almost instantly, feeling ridiculous.

Harry puts up with so much from Louis, his odd mood swings and need for secrecy. Yet he never complains, never asks Louis when they can tell other people, and Louis is so grateful for that, but he’s also afraid. Afraid that Harry will soon tire of it all, and leave Louis for someone who is actually worth his time and affections.

Louis feels so certain that it’s only a matter of time unit Harry comes to his senses, that maybe that is his favorite part of having a secret relationship: if no one knows then no one will have to know about his broken heart when Harry finally leaves him.

 “Are you guys all ready for the game tonight?” Danielle asks excitedly.

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Louis replies, voice only shaking slightly around his bright grin. Both Gemma and Harry glance at him questioningly. The Styles siblings are far too perceptive for their own good.

Gemma looks away finally, attention drawn back to the bouncing Irishman at her left, but Harry continues to stare at Louis, eyes intense. 

“Don’t worry babe,” Harry whispers lowly so that only Louis can hear, “I’m sure you’ll do brilliantly tonight." 

The sureness of his tone coxes a smile from Louis, and he reminds himself once again to just enjoy this all while it lasts.

*

 

It’s another victory party at some random unknown person’s house, and Louis is spectacularly drunk.

He pushes his way through the crowded hallway, careful not to spill his drink. He spots Liam and Danielle near the end of the hall, and Liam turns to him as he nears, cheeks flushed from alcohol and his eyes all squinty as he smiles broadly.

“We did it Tommo!” he cheers, giving Louis a rather hard pat on the back, “One more game and then we are off to the championship finals!”

“I have no doubts we will crush it!” Louis responds happily, still riding the high from their victory earlier that evening.

Without much warning Liam suddenly scoops Louis up off his feet into a bone-crushing hug.

“I love you mate!” Liam shouts over the music, words slurring slightly.

“I love you too,” Louis laughs, watching as Danielle tries to pry Liam’s arms away from him.

“Come on now,” she says gently, “I think we should go get you some water, love.”

Liam waves at Louis over his shoulder as she leads him off towards the kitchen, trying to keep him from crashing into any of the near by party goers.

Louis giggles, continuing on his journey towards the living room. It’s wall to wall packed with sweaty, dancing bodies, the couches and chairs covered in couples (including Zayn and Perrie) all displaying varying degrees of PDA.

In the center of the room is a coffee table, with Niall stood up on it, a beer in each hand and dancing about like a mad man, winking devilishly at the crowd of girls that has gathered around him as he quickly downs one of his drinks.

“Tommo!” Niall bellows happily once he spots him, “You wanker! Get your arse over here!”

Louis makes his way towards him, reaching for the hand Niall has held out to him before Niall hauls him up onto the coffee table beside him.

“Drink!” Niall demands with a wide, manic grin, and Louis doesn’t question it, just downs the remainder of his drink quickly as Niall polishes off his other beer.

The two of them begin to comically dirty dance with one another, playing it up for the cheering crowd around them. Louis notices Gemma on the other side of the room with an amused smirk across her face and her phone held high, undoubtedly taking a video for future blackmail. Louis finds that he really couldn’t give less of a fuck, and when Niall bends over to grind against him shamelessly Louis give his arse a playful slap, throwing his head back with laughter.

When Louis loses his balance and nearly topples over into the crowd below he figures it’s time for him to return to solid ground. He hops down, leaving Niall alone to his antics as the entire room begins to chant “Nialler! Nialler! Nialler!”

Almost instantly a new drink is shoved into Louis’ hand by an unknown source, and Louis happily takes a large swig of it, stumbling forward a few paces before stopping, closing his eyes and letting his hips sway in time to the music.

For a moment Louis gets lost to it; the music and the crowd and the energy, before he feels someone press up against the back of him, large hands being placed firmly onto his hips.

“I really liked watching you dance up there,” Harry’s voice rumbles lowly in his ear, warm breath ghosting across Louis’ skin, “if I didn’t know any better I may have gotten jealous.”

His lips drag across the sensitive skin of Louis neck, causing his eyes to pop open and glance around to make sure that no one is watching. The surrounding people seem oblivious, but Louis doesn’t want to take any chances.

He steps away from Harry’s grasp, but reaches back to grab Harry by the wrist, quickly dragging him from the living room and up a flight of stairs where the crowds are far thinner. He opens the first door he comes to and finds an unoccupied bathroom, and quickly shoves Harry inside.

Louis barely gets the door locked before Harry is on him, grabbing Louis’ bum firmly and lifting him up off his feet, before plopping him down onto the counter, causing Louis to let out a surprised squeak.

“Finally,” Harry practically growls, his lips attacking Louis’ neck just below his jaw, “I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you all night.”

“Yeah?” Louis asks a bit breathlessly, eyes closed and tugging lightly at Harry’s curls.

“Mmhmm,” Harry responds, licking across the new bruise he has just created,  “Watching you run around the field tonight in those damn shorts, all sweaty and masculine… it got me so fucking hard. Which was rather unfortunate, considering I was sitting next to my sister.”

Louis lets out a giggle followed by a gasp as Harry sinks his teeth into the spot just above his collarbone. “She’d never let you live it down if she had noticed.”

“Indeed. But God, the way your thighs look in those shorts… can you honestly blame me? Makes me want to leave bite marks all over them.”

Harry’s words go straight to Louis’ cock, causing it to throb almost painfully within his jeans.

“You c-can… if you w-want to,” Louis stammers, grip tightening in Harry’s hair.

Harry noses up along the side of Louis’ neck as his hands begin to work at undoing his belt.

“I want to do everything with you, Lou,” Harry murmurs lowly, “as long as you’ll let me.”

Louis nods a bit distractedly before pulling Harry back slightly by his hair and bringing their lips together. Harry taste like fruit and alcohol and something that is just so distinctly Harry, and Louis finds himself a bit dizzy from the intoxicating combination.

Harry’s hands move from the front of Louis’ jeans to his hips, finger slipping into the belt loops.

“Lift up a bit, love,” Harry whispers against Louis’ lips.

Louis places his hands firmly on the counter on either side of him and lifts his hips up as much as he can as Harry pulls his jeans over his bum and down his thighs before pulling his lips away from Louis’ and kneeling before him, continuing to pull his jeans down to his ankles, leaving Louis sitting on the counter in nothing but his pants.

Harry spreads Louis’ legs open as far as possible and gently kisses the inside of his right knee, looking up at Louis through his lashes. Louis holds his breathe as Harry’s lips travel up the inside of Louis’ thigh, causing him to white knuckle the counter as Harry nips and sucks at the tender flesh. Harry soon pulls back and starts all over again at Louis’ other knee, his lips continuing their torturously slow pace up Louis’ inner thigh.

Louis let’s out a strangled moan as Harry noses against his bulge through the thin cotton of his pants, arching his back until his head is resting against the mirror behind him.

Harry mouths against the outline of Louis’ dick, soaking the fabric. “I want to taste you Lou.”

“Shit Haz,” Louis pants, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

Harry grabs Louis’ bum firmly with both hands, pulling him closer towards his mouth, sucking harder as he slowly slides Louis off the counter and places him onto his feet. Louis feels utterly boneless and leans heavily against the counter behind him for support.

Slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of Louis’ pants, Harry slowly begins to pull them down until Louis’ erection springs forth, hard and already dripping in anticipation of what’s to come.

A devilish grin graces Harry’s lips before he grabs Louis firmly at the base of his cock, swirling his tongue over the head.

The noise that erupts forth from Louis’ lips sounds practically inhuman, and his eyes roll into the back of his head. It’s not like he has never had a blow job before: he can recall plenty of sloppy attempts Eleanor had given him in the past, but this is already on another level completely and it has barely even begun. Louis is fairly certain that it is due to the simple fact that it is Harry.

Slowly Harry begins to bob back and forth, taking in a little bit more of Louis in each time, tongue running along the sides and up underneath the head, exploring the curve of every vein.

Louis watches in utter fascination, mewling at the way Harry’s cheeks hollow out as he picks up the pace, eyelashes dusting his rosy cheeks and cherry colored lips stretched obscenely wide around Louis’ dick, surrounding him with his tight, hot wetness.

Harry’s hand works over the base of Louis that he can’t fit into his mouth at a rather punishing pace, while the other hand comes up to cup Louis’ balls, giving them a slight squeeze.

Harry let’s out a small moan from the back of his throat that vibrates all around Louis, causing his hips to jerk forward beyond his control, hitting Harry in the back of the throat and making him choke a bit and pull away.

“Sorry, sorry,” Louis pants quickly, reaching out for Harry’s face to pet at his cheeks apologetically. He remembers how pissed off Eleanor used to get at him whenever he did that.

Harry stares up at him with large, slightly red-rimmed eyes, nudging his face into Louis’ touch.

“It’s okay Lou,” he says softly, voice rough. His cool breath hits the wet skin of Louis’ dick, causing a giant shiver to run up and down his spin, “I want you to fuck my mouth.”

Louis feels as if his knees are about to give out, and all he can do is stare back at Harry who is blinking up at him slowly, the green of his irises almost completely hidden by the wide stretch of his pupils.

“You sure?” Louis asks, voice barely above a whisper, but Harry doesn’t reply, just wraps his mouth around Louis once more, looking up at him expectantly.

Louis swallows audibly before giving Harry a slight nod, moving his hips in short, shallow thrust. Louis hits the back of his throat, and Harry swallows around him, tears building up in the corners of his eyes, causing Louis to moan almost a bit hysterically.

He’s so close, can feel it tingling and tightening in every muscle, and he opens his mouth to say so, when suddenly he feels the pad of Harry’s finger against his hole, rubbing in a slow circle while giving just the slightest bit of pressure, and it’s all over for Louis. He shoots down Harry’s throat without warning, a strangled cry leaving his lips as his orgasm completely blinds him.

Harry continues to suck him through it until Louis begins to soften in his mouth, and he releases him with a rather loud and obscene pop.

Louis’ legs tremble and he is no longer able to support his own weight, collapsing into a heap in front of Harry, breathing heavily.

“You swallowed?” Louis questions, his brain taking a few minutes to catch up. Eleanor would often leave Louis to finish himself off, hating when he didn’t warn her fast enough and she would have run to go spit his cum out in the sink.

Harry giggles fondly while nodding, sweaty curls falling limping into his eyes. “You tasted good Lou,” Harry replies with a cheeky, lopsided grin, dimples on full display.

Louis can’t believe this ridiculous, beautiful boy before him, and pulls Harry in to kiss him deeply, tasting himself within Harry’s mouth. While it’s a little bit odd Louis decides he doesn’t exactly mind it.

They kiss lazily until Louis’ mind begins to clear, and he reaches out for Harry’s belt buckle.

“It’s okay Lou,” Harry says quickly, but Louis shakes his head, wanting to return the favor.

But when he presses his palm to Harry he finds him soft within his jeans with a damp spot in the fabric.

“Did you…?” Louis questions. The way Harry’s cheeks color as he looks away is all the answer Louis needs.

Louis sucks in a breath, finding it extremely arousing that Harry was able to get off just by giving him a blowjob.

“’S embarrassing,” Harry mumbles, still not meeting Louis’ eye.

“No, no. It’s so hot,” Louis says quickly, turning Harry’s face towards him and kissing him hungrily in hopes of conveying his feelings to him.

After a moment of hesitation Harry melts into the kiss, humming happily against Louis’ lips.

“Let’s get back to the party,” Harry suggests after a few more minutes have passed, and he helps Louis up onto his feet, pulling up his pants and jeans and refastening them as he places a gentle kiss to Louis’ forehead.

Louis gives him one last quick peck on the lips before he steps away and swings open the bathroom door, making his way down the hall with Harry only a few paces behind him.

There’s a group of chavs from Louis’ grade gathered around the top of the stairs, leaning over the railing to throw things at the partiers below and leering down at the girls with the low cut tops like disgusting animals.

As Louis goes to step around them, the one named Nathan notices, stepping out to block Louis’ way.

“Looky here lads!” he yells drunkenly, taking a step closer to Louis, which has him instinctively taking a step back, “It’s the football star!”

His friends all turn to look at Louis, eyeing him up and down and smiling at him in a way that makes his skin crawl.

Louis tries to side step Nathan but the one named Jay reaches out, grabbing him by the arm. “What’s the rush? Too good to hang out with us?”

“Acting like a complete prat isn’t exactly my idea of a good time,” Louis snaps, annoyed. He pulls his arm roughly from Jay’s grip, but this only causes an amused laugh to circle around the group.

“Problem?” comes Harry’s low voice from behind him, and Louis jumps slightly, having almost forgotten that he was there.

The one closest to Harry, a kid named Max, turns and stares him down. Harry just squares his shoulders back and returns his gaze steadily, refusing to be intimidated by him.

“Nothing that concerns you, faggot,” Max bites, chuckling when he notices the way Harry’s jaw clenches.

Louis’ throat feels dry, realizing how quickly the situation is spinning out of control, and tries to pull Harry along.

This action does not go unnoticed by a boy near the back named Tom, who is leaning heavily on his friend, Siva.

“Oh, is this faggot your boyfriend?” he slurs loudly, and Louis feels like his heart has stopped completely.

“I will break your fucking face,” Harry threatens lowly.

“Stop,” Louis says tightly, but Harry ignores him, instead stepping protectively between Louis and boys surrounding them.

Max smirks at Harry evilly, “Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to put your fairy arse in its place.”

And then he’s shoving Harry hard against the wall behind him, and all the other boys lunge to join in, leaving a clearing on the stairs. As quickly as possible amongst the chaos, Louis grabs Harry firmly by the forearm, stopping his fist mid swing, and pulls him away from the group and down the stairs, trying to ignore the nasty names that are being shouted down after them.

Louis can feel the alcohol within his stomach churning uncomfortably, and after he pushes through the crowd and rushes out the front door he releases his grip on Harry, stumbling towards the nearest bush and throwing up rather violently behind it, tears streaming down his face.

“Lou?” Harry places a cautious hand to Louis’ shoulder, but he jerks away from his touch. Harry takes a step back, waiting patiently as Louis continues to be sick.

Once he feels like his stomach is empty, Louis stands up on shaky legs and wipes angrily at his mouth with the back of his hand, still feeling a bit sick.

“What the hell, Harry?” Louis asks, turning to face him finally.

Harry just shrugs, eyeing Louis confusedly.

“I told you to stop,” Louis clarifies, feeling an unexplainable rage creep over him, “those guys were just looking to start a fight and you played right into it.”

“I’m not afraid of arseholes like that,” Harry retorts defiantly, folding his arms across his chest, “it’s not like I haven’t dealt with this sort of thing before.”

And the truth of that hits Louis like a ton of bricks. Harry is used to this type of thing; it has happened to him before, and he expects it to happen again. All because of his sexuality he has grown accustom to idiots calling him horrible things, and if they are ever going to come out with their relationship, Louis should expect it too. Ice runs through his veins and he feels like he wants to throw up all over again.

Harry’s expression softens as he watches Louis. “Are you okay?” he asks kindly.

Louis nods a bit distractedly, “Yeah, I… I think I just want to go home.”

“I’ll walk you,” Harry offers.

“No, stay. Go and enjoy the rest of the party,” Louis replies quickly with a shake of his head, then starts off down the road, not waiting for a response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've noticed smutty chapters take me so much longer to write because I get so into it that I suddenly forget what the next part is that I need to write, so every paragraph or so I need to take a break and then reread the last few paragraphs to find my place again. Does this ever happen to anyone else or just me??? Haha.
> 
> Thank you all for continuing to read and I love you all to the moon and back ;)


	14. Think I'll Miss You Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song "Summertime Sadness" by Lana Del Rey

Louis feels like his skin is crawling. There is not enough air in his bedroom. He paces back and forth aimlessly, panicked and scared and so many other emotions that he cannot even begin to name.

Those guys were just being idiots, he tries to tell himself, they just looking to start shit with anyone they came across. Louis and Harry had just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

But what if it was more than just teasing and rude words? What if they really do know what is going on? Just because they are stupid arseholes doesn’t mean that they are blind. What if they tell people? What if by the time Louis walks into school on Monday morning everybody knows about him and Harry?

Louis barely has time to rush to the bathroom before he is heaving again, purging his stomach of its last remaining contents.

*

 

The pale early morning light has just barely begun to filter in through Louis’ bedroom window, and he is still wide-awake. He has tossed and turned through out the entire night, unable to ignore the anxiety that has consumed his mind. He covers his eyes with his forearm, frustrated and exhausted.

He had turned his phone off last night before he had crawled into bed, and though the desire to check it is strong, he instead opens the drawer to his nightstand and throws it inside, closing it rather harshly to keep it out of his sight.

He then slowly drags himself from his bed, joints cracking uncomfortably and muscles sore as he makes his way down stairs. His mother is standing at the kitchen sink in her robe, staring out the window as she waits for the kettle to boil. She turns to face him as soon as he enters.

“What’s wrong Boobear?” she asks instantly, brows furrowing in concern as her eyes sweep over him.

“Feeling a bit sick,” he lies with a shrug.

Jay opens her arms and Louis falls into them gratefully, sighing contently as his mother wraps him up in a warm hug.

“How about you go back to bed and I’ll bring you up a cuppa?” Jay suggests quietly, gently petting at Louis’ hair.

Louis nods, staying in his mother’s embrace for a few moments longer before stepping back and making his way back upstairs.

He’s curled back up in bed staring at the ceiling when his mother enters with his tea. She places it on the nightstand in silence before bending over and kissing her son gently on the forehead. She says so much to him in those simple little acts without having to say a single word, and Louis is so eternally grateful for that.

“Thank you,” he croaks out as she steps back, hoping she understands how much he appreciates her.

She smiles warmly at him, ruffling his hair before turning to leave.

“Hey mom,” he calls out once she’s at the door.

“Yes love?” she responds with a raised brow.

Louis swallows thickly, “If… if anyone comes by for me will you, will you just…”

“I’ll let them know you aren’t well enough to see anyone right now,” Jay supplies for him with a nod and a smile that Louis thinks almost looks a bit sad, before disappearing out into the hall.

Louis stares at the empty doorway after she leaves for a long while, trying to bring some sort of order to the thoughts in his cluttered mind.

The stress levels seem to have finally broken him, and he is just so tired. Tired of all the lying and sneaking around, tired of the constant fear and worry, tired of trying to decipher all these emotions that he is nowhere close to understanding. And most of all tired of pretending that this thing with Harry is something that could actually last.

By some sort of miracle Louis manages to finally fall into a rather fitful sleep, dreams haunted by chocolate curls and sparkling green eyes.

He is ripped from his slumber suddenly by the sound of the doorbell echoing through the house. His whole body tenses and he holds his breath, straining to listen for any sign of who maybe at the door.

After several agonizingly long, and stress filled minutes, Louis realizes that his mother must have been successful in sending who ever it was on their way.

Despite everything Louis would like to hope that it was Harry, that he was worried enough to come and check on Louis, but he knows that is selfish of him.

It’d be better if Harry didn’t care about him so much, it would make what Louis had to do next so much easier.

*

 

“You look like hell,” Gemma states once Louis has climbed into the passenger seat of her car.

“Cheers, love. Your compassion is literally non-existent,” Louis replies grumpily.

“Whoa there sunshine, I was kidding,” she amends, brow furrowing in concern, “What’s up?”

Louis closes his eyes, running a frustrated hand through his unstyled hair (and that right there should explain just how utterly shit he is feeling), “Nothing, just… still not a hundred percent yet.”

Gemma remains quiet for the entire drive to school, which sets Louis’ nerves on edge. It so abnormal that he can barely stand it, but at the same time he is grateful that she isn’t bombarding him with questions. He is not in the proper mental state to even attempt to answer them.

As soon as they enter the school Louis glances down the hall and see a familiar head of curls facing away from him, talking with Zayn and Niall and Louis feels his heart freeze in his chest, sucking in a breath. After ignoring all of Harry's texts and calls over the last two days, the very idea of even trying to face him right now makes Louis’ eyes burn, so he quickly turns and escapes into the nearest bathroom, leaving Gemma behind without a word of explanation.

He ducks into the first stall, locking the door and climbing up onto the closed toilet, pulling his legs up to hide his face into his knees.

Louis tries to steady his breathing, feeling the urge to start throwing up taking over him once more, tears prickling at the back of his eyes. Calming thoughts, he tries to remind himself, that is the key.

After several long minutes the final bell for first period rings out, the distant chatter coming from the hall finally dying away. Louis lifts his head from his knees, letting out a long and rather shaky breath. He needs to stop acting so ridiculous.

He stands up, shaking out his shoulders and giving himself a few more mental words of encouragement before swinging the door open. He let out a small squeak of surprise when he sees Harry leaning up against the far wall of the bathroom. He raises his head slowly to gaze at Louis, expression rather blank but eyes intense, searching.

“Hey Haz,” Louis says, trying to sound casual but unable to ignore the slight tremor in his voice. He just hopes that Harry hadn’t noticed it.

Harry doesn’t respond, just follows Louis with his eyes as he walks towards the sink, washing his hands to give himself something to focus on beside Harry’s face. As he goes to dry his hands he chances a glance up at Harry’s reflection in the mirror and instantly regrets it. The hurt is so clear within the green depths of his eyes.

“So,” Harry says finally, voice tight and a bit forced, “I take it that you’re done with me then, huh?”

Those words cut through Louis’ heart like daggers. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath to try and steady himself, searching desperately for the right words to explain.

“Harry-”

“Don’t lie to me Louis, I’m not fucking stupid,” Harry cuts him off, and Louis visibly flinches at the harshness of his tone. He hates that Harry sounds like this, and hates himself even more for being the cause of it.

Louis stares down at the ground, unable to look at Harry anymore. He wraps his arms tightly around his middle, as if it’s the only thing keeping him from crumbling apart into a million pieces. Louis opens and closes his mouth several times, but can’t seem to make himself remember how to speak, and he can feel the anger radiating off of Harry increasing with each passing second of silence.

“You know,” Harry continues finally with a humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair in frustration, “I’d always thought if you wanted to end it you’d at least have the balls to tell me to my face, not hide away in the bathroom like a fucking coward.”

And everything inside Louis that was holding him together suddenly snaps.

“Like you have any room to talk!” Louis throws back a bit hysterically, “Or don’t you recall all those times you avoided me before?”

“That was completely different, and you know it!” Harry counters, eyes narrowed and fists clenching at his sides. “Are you really so ashamed to have people know that we’re together?”

Louis wants to deny it, wants to so badly, but the words would just taste false in his mouth. It’s not so much that he’s ashamed, more that he’s fucking terrified. Terrified of labeling himself to the world as something he is so unsure of. But more so terrified by the fact that he knows deep down that he doesn’t deserve Harry.

He watches Harry closely, with the angry set to his brow and flared nostrils and he is still the most beautiful thing that Louis has ever set eyes on. This isn’t fair to him, and there is really no point in prolonging the inevitable. Harry will be better off without him, and there is no reason to hurt him anymore during the process.

But once again Louis finds himself frozen, unable to speak and he is suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that he is losing Harry, and that this is goodbye.

Louis can tell the exact moment that Harry has realized it as well, the anger suddenly being replaced by hurt, and Louis hates it, would much prefer him to continue shouting.

Harry takes a shaky breath before meeting Louis eyes, his own beginning to glisten with unshed tears.

“Well then,” Harry states sadly, clearing his throat to try and make his voice sound a bit stronger, “guess you won’t have to worry about that anymore.”

And if his voice cracks a bit during the last word Louis will never tell anyone. Never speak of the hurt and humiliation that he unfairly caused the lovely Harry Styles.

Harry exits the restroom quickly without sparing him another glance, and Louis has to grip the sink tightly to try and fight back against every instinct he has that screaming to chase after him. This is all for the best, and he needs to just keep reminding himself of that.

But right now he doesn’t want to think about the choice he has made, or the absolutely wonderful person that Harry is most likely soon to meet and have a real, honest relationship with. He just wants to feel sorry for himself for a bit.

He slowly crumples down onto the floor, burying his face within his knees, and sheds every tear that he’s been fighting to hold back all weekend.

*

 

Louis can’t think of a single other time in his life when he has ever been so bloody fucking miserable.

Perrie is sure to make the announcement at lunch that her, Zayn, and Harry have an “important project” that will require them to spend their lunches in the library (the perfect excuse for Harry’s sudden absence) before flouncing off to go meet the two boys. No one questions it, no one even bats an eye. And though Louis realizes he should probably be grateful for the lack of drama he still finds himself disappointed that Harry didn’t put up more of a fight. But that was what Louis had wanted, wasn’t it?

If Louis had thought it had been difficult before when Harry had been avoiding him, that was absolutely nothing in comparison to now. Each time they happen to pass each other in the hallway Harry looks right through him, completely indifferent. Louis can handle the anger, and he can handle the hurt, but he can’t handle the thought that maybe he’d been right all along, and Harry really didn’t care about him nearly as much as Louis had for him.

If anyone did notice anything weird going on they definitely kept it to themselves, even Gemma didn’t ask why suddenly Louis wanted to have all their study sessions at his house. Every now and then Louis would think he’d catch Gemma giving him this look, almost like she felt sorry for him, but it would be gone so quickly that he couldn’t really be sure that he had seen it at all in the first place.

It is difficult to accept that Louis’ world goes on without Harry in it. He feels hollow and misplaced, yet everything continues on as it normally does, completely blind to his feelings.

One day as Louis is heading to practice after school he spots the same group of chavs from the party at the far end of the hallway and Louis finds himself turning tail and heading in the opposite direction as quickly as possible with his heart hammering , cursing under his breathe and wondering when exactly he became such a bloody coward.

Trying to ignore the swirling dark cloud of emotions that threatens to consume him at any moment, Louis throws himself into his studies and football in a desperate attempt to distract himself.

It is their final game before the championship playoff, and Louis tries to pretend like he doesn’t notice Harry’s absence from the audience by taking as much of his aggression out on the opposing team as humanly possible without getting called for any fouls. It is tricky, but if the fear in the eyes of the other team’s forward is anything to go by, then he’d say mission fucking accomplished.

The game goes without any real incident though, and surprise surprise, Liam scores the winning goal, and the team cheers, the crowd cheers and Louis watches it all unfold around him with a strange sort of numbness. Vaguely he is aware of Niall slapping him on the back, voice loud in Louis’ ear although he is unable to make out the words.

He glances around at all the smiling faces that surround him, more than half he doesn’t even recognize. And then he sees him, on the ground near the back of the bleachers, leaning casually against one of its thick metal beams, is Harry.

They stare across the field at each other, and everything else stills. Louis can hear his heart beating loudly in his ears, his chest suddenly tight as he tries to catch his breath.

And then Harry is pushing himself off the bleachers and striding across the field, and for one moment Louis allows himself to hope that perhaps he is coming over to see him, that maybe Louis hasn’t screwed this up quite as much as he thought and they can actually try to be friends. But then Harry is veering off towards the right, coming to stand in front of a pretty cheerleader with blonde hair.

Louis watches miserably as Harry smiles down at the girl, speaking to her in that slow manner of his that causes a musical laugh to erupt from her, just barely audible to Louis’ ears.

He turns away from the scene before him, mentally kicking himself for even having hope. Obviously Harry has already moved on, and he is now lost to Louis forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG this chapter was hard to write... still not sure if I'm a hundred precent happy with it but oh well, I'm not sure what else I can do to make it better at this point. It will haunt my dreams for weeks...
> 
> From now on I'm not sure when I'll be able to get new chapters up because I have so much going on in real life right now. I'll do my best but you know... sorry ahead of time and shit.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and for putting up with my shit. Love you bunches and bunches :)


	15. Oh, And I'm On My Way To Believing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song "The Only Exception" by Paramore

Calculus is giving Louis a massive migraine. Ms. McCoy is writing numbers across the board in a mad flurry, and they all seem to be blurring together.

Louis glances at Gemma sitting in the desk next to him, furiously taking notes with a crease to her brow, and Louis decides he’ll just have to copy her notes later.

“Mr. Tomlinson?” Ms. McCoy’s words interrupt his train of thought, her voice suggesting that it is not the first time that she has called his name.

“Yes?” he asks, turning his attention towards her.

“Would you care to evaluate the second equation up on the board?” she asks, holding the white board marker out towards him.

“Um…” Louis blinks at her for a few moments before clearing his throat, “Actually I’m not feeling too well. Can I go to the nurse?”

Ms. McCoy let’s out a long-suffering sigh, rolling her eyes, “Very well. Anyone else?” She turns to the rest of class to find her next victim as Louis quickly gathers up his things, Gemma sticking her tongue out after him as he escapes through the classroom door.

Louis wanders down the hall slowly, wondering if he really should go down to the nurse’s office, or just find somewhere to hide until his next class begins.

“Hey Louis,” comes a familiar voice behind him, and he spins around to find Zayn staring a him with his calm, dark eyes, “which class you avoiding?”

Louis swallows hard, well aware that this is the first time he has really seen or spoken to Zayn since everything had gone down between him and Harry. Did he know anything about it? Did he hate Louis as well? The way Zayn was looking at him now would suggest not, which made Louis sigh in relief.

“Calculus,” he answers finally.

Zayn wrinkles his nose at that, which still looks ridiculously attractive on him, something that Louis finds rather annoying.

“Well,” Zayn continues, quirking a brow, “I was about to bunk off for a bit to my house to smoke a bowl, care to join?”

Louis bites at his bottom lip to suppress a smile, relief crashing over him in great waves. He is thrilled to find that Zayn does not hate him, because besides the fact that he is Harry’s best friend, Louis had grown quite fond of the quiet lad.

“Sounds good mate,” Louis nods, and follows Zayn out the school’s front doors.

Zayn’s house turns out to only be about a block and a half from the school, and the two make the small journey in relative silence. They make their way through the empty house to Zayn’s bedroom, which is a mess of dark clothes, brushes, cans of spray paint, and a stack of canvases leaning against the far wall.

Zayn kicks a leather jacket and a pair of the Incredible Hulk pants out of the way before sitting down on the floor, leaning against his bed. Louis sinks down onto the floor beside him.

Reaching underneath his bed Zayn pulls out a small glass bubbler and a carved wooden box filled with weed, loading a bowl before silently passing the piece and a lighter over to Louis.

He flicks the lighter, sucking in for a few moments before removing his thumb from the carb, inhaling sharply as all the smoke rushes past his lips. Louis closes his eyes, enjoying the feel of the smoke curling around inside his lungs.

“So,” Zayn asks suddenly, soft voice breaking the silence, “what exactly is going on between you and Harry?”

Louis chokes, harshly coughing up smoke and eyes burning. He sputters as Zayn reaches into his bag and pulls out a Coke and hands it to Louis, who chugs it gratefully, cool liquid soothing the burning in his throat as Zayn just watches him patiently.

“What?” Louis finally manages to croak out.

Zayn raises his eyebrows at Louis, looking unimpressed. “Harry hasn’t said anything to me, if that’s what you’re worried about. But I do have eyes, you know.”

Louis fiddles with his hands nervously as Zayn takes a hit from the bubbler, unsure of what exactly to say.

“No matter what you did,” Zayn continues, smoke clouding around his head, “I’m sure if you just apologized Harry would forgive you. I think it’s pretty obvious that boy’s head over heels for you.”

Louis shakes his head disbelievingly with a small smile across his face. “It’s definitely not that simple.”

“What ever,” Zayn shrugs, “just know this, Harry might be my best friend, but you’re my friend too, and I’d rather not see either one of you miserable. So one of you guys needs to grow some balls, pull your head out of your arse, and fix this.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Louis chuckles in spite of himself, feeling the heaviness that had settled in his gut over the last week lighten slightly knowing that he at least had Zayn half way on his side.

They continue their smoke session quickly, the only real sounds the flick of the lighter and the bubbling of the water, before they make their way back towards the school with their heads rather warm and hazy.

The school is in between classes when they return, students congesting the halls with their loud voices and laughter.

“Zayn!”

Louis’ blood freezes in his veins at the sound of Harry’s voice, seeming so alien after all this time and yet so achingly familiar. And then suddenly there he is, standing before them with a large grin on his face, eyes bright.

It slips from his face instantly the moment he sees Louis, and there it is, so clear, all the pain etched across every beautiful feature of his face, before he’s closed off again, hiding every bit of himself away so Louis can’t see.

The air around them is suddenly thick with awkwardness, and Louis notices the pretty blonde cheerleader he’d seen with Harry at the game standing just behind him, eyes glancing back and forth nervously between himself and Harry.

“Hey Harry,” Zayn replies, seeming perfectly at ease and unaware of anything being amiss with this situation. Harry doesn’t respond though, just continues to stare at Louis, and he tries not to squirm uncomfortably beneath his intense gaze.

“I gotta head to class,” Louis manages to say quietly, not entirely trusting his own voice.

“Later,” Zayn replies happily before quickly wrapping Louis up into a one armed hug and whispering into his ear, “Grow some balls, Tomlinson.”

He winks as Louis pulls away, but he has no time to dwell on what Zayn has said, too overwhelmed with the need to escape, and far too distracted by the feel of Harry’s stare as he walks briskly away down the hall.

*

 

Jay is sitting on the couch in the living room, curled up with a soft pink throw, while some cooking reality show playing softly on the telly. Louis lingers awkwardly in the doorway for a few minutes before heading into the room, sitting down next to his mother and cuddling into her side.

Jay wraps an arm around her son without saying a word or taking her eyes off her program, and Louis sinks gratefully into her warm touch. They sit there quietly; just enjoying each other’s company and the gentle hum of mind numbing television until long after the sun has disappeared below the horizon and sends the room into darkness, the set before them the only source of light.

Finally, Jay reaches for the remote, muting the telly, and gently pushes Louis’ fringe back from his forehead. “What’s the matter Boobear?”

Louis glances up at her, “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

She raises her brows at him, “You haven’t cuddled me like this since Ted ran away when you were nine. What’s on your mind sweetheart?”

Louis shifts around a bit nervously, staring down at his hands as he fiddles with a loose thread on the throw. “What if… what if I told you that I liked a boy?”

“Well,” Jay responds quickly, “then I’d tell you that you better be planning on adopting, because you are not getting out of giving me grandchildren.”

Louis looks up at his mother in surprise. “R-really?” he stammers in a small voice, sounding on the verge of tears.

“Oh Boobear,” she says softly, pulling her son fully into her lap and wrapping her arms around him tightly, “You should know by now that I’ll always love you, no matter who you decide to be with.”

Louis begins to cry quietly into his mother’s shoulder, clinging on to her for dear life.

“There, there,” she soothes, gently rubbing her hand up and down his back, “Do you mind if I ask… is this about Harry?”

Louis leans back slightly to look up at his mother with red-rimmed eyes. “How did you know?” he sniffs.

Jay’s entire face softens. “Lucky guess. He is a very lovely boy.”

“Yes, he is,” Louis agrees with a watery laugh.

“So,” Jay asks gently, “what’s the problem then?”

“The problem is me,” Louis groans loudly, rubbing at his eyes in frustration, “I mean… I’m not even sure if I’m actually gay, mom. I’ve never looked at any other boys this way before, so what if it’s a mistake? That’s not fair to Harry.”

Jay reaches out and captures Louis’ hands in hers. “I think you’re focusing too much on labels, sweetie. What you think you are or aren’t isn’t what this is about. You like Harry, right?”

“Yes,” Louis answers quietly without hesitation.

“Then that’s all that matters,” Jay shrugs with a knowing smile.

Louis sniffs, staring down at their clasped hands. A single tear slides down his cheek.

“But,” Louis whispers, voice trembling slightly, “not everyone thinks that way mom.”

Jay gently takes Louis’ face into her hands, waiting patiently until he looks up to meet her eye.

“Listen to me,” she says seriously, thumbing another tear away from Louis’ cheek, “the people that are important, the people that really matter to you, are not going to care. And everyone else is irrelevant.”

Louis let’s his mother’s words sink in, swirling around inside his brain and mingling with Zayn’s advice from earlier.

“Thanks mom.”

*

 

Louis drums his fingers nervously against his desk, staring down at his phone. He’s passed by the contact several times, afraid that if he looks at it for too long that they will some how know.

He takes a final deep breath, summoning up all his courage, then scrolls back up to the contact, and hits the call button, crewing his lip nervously as it begins to ring.

“Hello?”

Louis releases the breath he’d been holding in a nervous huff. “Hey El, it’s Louis.”

“Hi!” Eleanor replies brightly, and she sounds so genuinely happy to hear from him, albeit a little surprised, that it instantly brings a smile to Louis’ face. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” Louis replies with ease, “football team has made it to the championships, I’m not failing any classes, so yeah, can’t complain. You?”

“Awesome!” Eleanor gushes, “The squad is doing so fabulous. Coach says I’m the best captain they’ve had come along in a long time.”

Louis feels rather fond, being able to just imagine the huge grin on her face as she most likely bounces slightly with excitement.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he states sincerely.

A silence falls between them over the phone line, and Louis begins to panic that maybe this was a mistake when Eleanor suddenly clears her throat.

“Louis,” she says, sounding rather amused, “It’s not that I’m not _thrilled_ to hear from you or anything… but did you honestly just call me for a catch up chat?”

Louis gives an embarrassed laugh. He supposes she still knows him all too well.

“Okay, no I didn’t,” he admits, “I wanted to ask you something but… I don’t know, maybe it’s too weird.”

Eleanor’s musical laugh echoes down the phone, “Bring it on love, I can take it.”

Louis hesitates for a moment, chewing nervously at his bottom lip. He knows that if he doesn’t ask this now he won’t be able to pluck up the courage again. “Well, I was just wondering… how was I? As a boyfriend, I mean.”

“How do you mean?” Eleanor asks, sounding puzzled.

“Like, was I a good boyfriend?” Louis clarifies.

“Oh. Well of course you were, Louis. Just because it didn’t really work out between the two of us doesn’t mean you weren’t great. Yeah, we could have our differences at times but for the most part you were sweet and treated me with respect.”

Louis can feel his cheeks warming, embarrassed but pleased.

“Why do you ask?” Eleanor wonders after a moment.

Louis shrugs, then remembers Eleanor can’t actually see him. “Just doubting myself, I guess.”

Another silence falls for a few moments before Eleanor inquires, “Are you seeing someone new?”

Louis scratches at the back of his head nervously, not wanting to upset her. “Uh… yeah. Kind of.”

“Do you mind if I ask who?” she asks a bit hesitantly, though genuinely curious.

“Harry,” Louis mumbles, his voice barely audible to his own ears. He holds his breath, time seeming to slow as he waits nervously for Eleanor’s response.

“Oh,” she replies brightly.

Louis exhales deeply, brows furrowing slightly.

“You don’t exactly sound too surprised,” he accuses.

“Well…” she hesitates for a moment, then clears her throat, “honestly, the whole you dating a guy thing does surprise me, yes… but I’m not at all surprised to hear that guy is Harry.”

“What do you mean?” Louis asks, confused.

Eleanor sighs loud in exasperation. “Oh come on, Louis. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. That boy is obviously smitten.”

Louis smiles, remembering the way Harry used to look at him, eyes bright and focused, as if Louis was all that he could see, and all he ever wanted to see. The warm feeling growing in Louis chest quickly freezes as soon as he remembers the look on Harry’s face during their last interaction just a few days ago.

“I think I may have fucked it all up” Louis confesses quietly, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration.

“Talk to him,” Eleanor encourages gently, “I’m sure you could make it right if you just tried.”

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me,” Louis laughs a bit humorlessly.

“Well then,” Eleanor says slowly, making sure that Louis really hears her, “maybe you should listen to us then. Your friends are no dummies, you know.”

*

 

Louis is terrified.

He swings idly back and forth on the swing set at the park just a few short blocks from his house, watching the sun slowly slip below the horizon. A cool autumn breeze flutters through the leaves of the surrounding trees, causing Louis to shiver and wrap his arms around himself tightly.

He notices Gemma’s car round the corner then, and his heart nearly stops in his chest. He watches as it slowly comes to a stop, Gemma climbing out and walking towards him, flipping her hair back over her shoulder as the wind whips through it.

“Why the hell are we outside? It’s bloody freezing out here,” she complains as she nears him, scowl on her face and arms folded across her chest.

Louis just looks up at her, brain short-circuiting and throat clogged with too many words. She raises her eyebrows at him expectantly, waiting for him to respond. Louis opens his mouth, unsure exactly what is about to tumble forth from it.

“I like your brother.”

Not a single feature on Gemma’s face changes. Louis bites his lip nervously.

“This is my shocked face,” she deadpans.

Louis gapes at her for a moment.

“Seriously?” he asks, voice squeaking slightly.

“What?” she shrugs with a smirk, plopping down into the swing next to him, “Was it supposed to be a secret or something?”

Louis covers his face with his hands, leaning forward and groaning loudly. “How does everybody already know about this?”

“Neither of you seem to have quite grasped the concept of ‘subtly,’” Gemma laughs, kicking her legs out to gain some momentum to swing back and forth, “I called it from day one. Though, I’ll admit, Eleanor did throw me off a bit for a while there. And Nick was definitely a bit of a roadblock for a minute there as well. But hell, everyone could see it. Even Niall asked me the other day when you two were going to stop being idiots and just hook up already, and you know how oblivious he is most days.”

Louis feels his cheeks warm as he glances over at Gemma from between his fingers.

“Oh my God!” Gemma screeches suddenly, pointing an accusing finger at Louis, “You two have already hooked up, haven’t you?”

Louis can’t look at her, which is all the answer Gemma needs before she bursts out into manic laughter.

“You dirty little slut!” she giggles, “I can’t believe you have been doing it with my little brother behind my back this entire time!”

“I’m not…” Louis denies half-heartedly, “not anymore anyways.”

Gemma drags her feet against the ground until she comes to a stop, staring at Louis hard.

“Oh,” she clears her throat, “does this have anything to do with the reason why Harry’s been acting like such a tit lately?”

“He kind of hates me,” Louis mumbles sadly.

Gemma scoffs. “I highly doubt that. Harry is incapable of hate.”

Louis gives a small, humorless laugh, feeling tears beginning to build up against his eyelids. “Yeah, well, you didn’t see the way he looked at me.”

They sit in silence for a long moment before Gemma quietly asks, “What did you do?”

Louis takes a deep breath, staring up at the darkening sky as he tries to blink away the tears. “I freaked out, basically. It was all too much… questioning my sexually and self worth and I just… pushed him away, I guess.”

“Self worth?” Gemma repeats, tilting her head in confusion.

Louis turns away from her stare, feeling exposed and vulnerable. “I just… I don’t understand why he likes me. Harry is so amazing and I’m just… me. He was going to get bored and leave soon anyways so I figured I’d save him the trouble.”

“You idiot,” Gemma sighs, brows furrowed in annoyance, “first of all Harry is not so fucking special, believe me. I’ve seen that boy do some pretty embarrassing shit over the years, so trust me when I say there is no need to place the big goof up on any sort of pedestal.”

Louis grins despite himself, and Gemma swings herself from side to side until she is close enough to wrap an arm around Louis’ shoulder, holding their two swings up against each other.

“And secondly,” she continues, voice completely serious, “you obviously don’t see yourself very clearly, Louis Tomlinson. I told you the first day I met you that I saw potential in you, and I was right. You are amazing and funny and attractive as all hell and I am not the only one who sees it. Practically the entire school thinks the sun shines out your arse, and over half of them –boys and girls a like- want to jump your bones. Honestly, Harry is actually lucky that you even gave him the time of day in the first place.”

Louis can feel himself blushing furiously, and looks up to meet Gemma’s gaze, searching for any sort of sign that she is just messing with him. But her face is uncharacteristically serious and sincere, and Louis feels a deep love and appreciation for Gemma and her friendship sweep through him.

“What the hell would I do without you?” he asks, ever so incredibly fond.

“Crash and burn, definitely,” Gemma replies without missing a beat.

Louis smiles. “Without a doubt.”

Gemma releases Louis’ shoulder and the two swing apart from each other, then slowly back together until they both finally still.

“Seriously though,” Gemma announces, raising her eyebrows at Louis, “you need to talk to him. I know my brother, he won’t stay angry forever, especially if you just explain it to him. He’ll understand.”

Louis chews at his lip nervously, kicking his toes against the ground. “But what if he doesn’t?”

“Then he’s an idiot,” Gemma responds firmly.

Louis smiles, feeling all warm and pleased. Maybe there is still hope to fix all this. Louis feels lighter already, knowing that the people closest to him don’t really care and have done nothing but support him thus far. Maybe he can get Harry back, and maybe he does actually deserve to have Harry in the first place. All he knows for sure is that he has to try, because really, what else does he have left to lose?

“And just so you know,” Gemma’s states, interrupting Louis current train of thought, “this was your one get out of jail free card. If you ever hurt my brother again, they will never find your body.”

Louis throws his head back and laughs, tears practically sliding down his cheeks. He supposes this conversation really wouldn’t have been complete without one of Gemma’s death threats.

“There’s the Gemma I know and love,” Louis manages between giggles, and Gemma reaches over and gives his shoulder a rather firm shove, causing Louis to lose his grip on the swing all fall backwards off it, landing on his back with a thud. 

Gemma gets up and starts walking back towards her car, leaving Louis behind her laying on the ground, laughing helplessly up into the night sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello you beautiful creatures! I have missed you so! Finally got around to finishing this chapter even though it's been almost finished for like a week now (sorry). 
> 
> As always thanks for reading, for putting up with my shit, and for just generally being awesome. Hope you enjoy! :D


	16. But They Haven't Seen The Best Of Us Yet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song "This Is Gospel" by Panic! At the Disco

Louis isn’t sure which is harder to come by, his courage or Harry.

He spends the majority of his day trying to work up the nerve just to speak to Harry, going over what he wants to say again and again in his head until he feels like he is going to explode with nervous energy. But the timing just never seems right, or there are too many people around, or he should really go to the bathroom first to keep himself from pissing down the front of his leg. Apologies are always best delivered with an empty bladder.

The school day is almost over before he pulls his shit together and begins to look for Harry, but the lanky boy is no where to be found. The final bell rings, the students swarming the halls, and Louis pushes through them all frantically, searching for a familiar head of curls, barely acknowledging that good luck calls coming from his fellow students for the championship game later that night. It isn’t until Louis is the only one left standing in the hall that he finally accepts the fact that Harry is simply not there.

Louis should be heading over to the locker room right now, mentally preparing himself for the game, but he refuses to put this off any longer. He heads off towards Harry’s house, breaking into a jog half way through the journey out of anticipation.

By the time Louis knocks on the front door he is completely winded, doubled over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. The front door swings open, and Louis looks up hoping to see Harry, but instead comes face to face with Gemma.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she asks, giving an exasperated sigh complete with eye roll.

“Is he here?” Louis pants out.

“No,” Gemma replies, leaning against the doorframe, “he took off like five minutes ago. I can’t believe you still haven’t talked to him yet.”

“Really?” Louis shoots back, straightening up and raising a brow at her, “I thought we’d already established what a scared little shit I am? Do you know where he went?”

Gemma folds her arms over her chest. “Do I look like my brother’s keeper?”

“No, you look like Gemma Styles, the all knowing master of the universe and my very best friend,” Louis states, smiling warmly and slowly batting his eyelashes at Gemma. This earns him another eye roll from her.

Louis pouts slightly and Gemma let’s out a long-suffering sigh. “All I know is that he had his guitar with him when he left-”

“Do you think he went to Ed’s?”

“Maybe,” she considers, tapping her chin with her index finger, thinking for a moment. “I _suppose_ I could text him and see where he is, but it’ll just be another thing added to the ever growing list of things you owe me for.”

“Thank you,” Louis exclaims as he quickly wraps Gemma up into a tight hug.

“Unhand me, you lunatic,” Gemma demands, pushing Louis away.

“Text him now,” he replies, nudging her slightly with his shoulder.

“Oh my God, _I am,_ calm down,” she snaps, pulling out her phone and shooting off a quick text. “Now, you need to get your happy arse over to the school, don’t you have a game starting in a couple of hours?”

“I can’t even think about that right now,” Louis admits.

“Well you have to. Come on, I’ll give you a ride to the school,” Gemma offers, giving Louis a push to get him to start walking down the front path towards her car.

Louis keeps glancing nervously at Gemma’s phone sitting in the center consul the whole drive to the school, anxiously awaiting some sort of response.

“Knock it off Tomlinson,” Gemma scolds, “you are making _me_ nervous.”

When they arrive at the school they head their separate ways, Louis going into the locker room to change and listen to the coaches pre-game pep talk. But Coach Higgins words seem like nothing more than muffled noise to him, and the chaotic energy of the people around him is blaringly at odds with his rather solemn mood.

“Hey,” Niall says gently as he approaches, placing a cautious hand to Louis’ shoulder, “you okay, mate?”

Louis notices Liam hovering just behind Niall, shooting Louis a rather sympathetic look. Louis hates it.

“Not really,” he replies, forcing a smile, “but I will be, don’t worry about it.”

“Let’s go out and get some air for a bit?’ Liam suggests, as the antics of their excited teammates increase in volume.

Louis nods in agreement and the three make their way out into the much quieter evening air. The sun is just beginning to dip below the tree line on the horizon, and slowly the crowds are trickling in from the parking lot towards the bleachers alongside the field.

“Have you spoken to him?” Liam asks without any lead in, and Louis sighs. He really shouldn’t be surprised at this point that everyone around him seems to know what’s going on.

“No, not yet,” he answers, “the curly lad is currently MIA.”

“He’ll forgive you, Tommo,” Niall reassures fiercely, “the boy is absolutely crazy about you.”

Despite his mood, Louis can’t help but smile at the Irish lad’s encouragements.

“Besides,” Niall laughs, “he really has too big of a heart to stay mad at anyone for too long.”

“Yeah,” Louis agrees fondly, “that’s just one of the many things I love about him.”

“Love?” Liam repeats, eyebrows rising in surprise.

Louis freezes. He hadn’t thought too much about what he had been saying, but… honestly, now that it had been pointed out to him, he realizes the truth behind the words. He has fallen totally, madly, and completely head over heels in love with Harry Styles. Instead of the fear that Louis had expected with such a revelation, he feels more like a large weight has been lifted from his shoulders, and his chest doesn’t feel quite so constricted anymore. Louis only hopes that it isn’t too late for Harry to possibly return those feelings.

Louis slowly nods in response to Liam’s inquiry, soft smile gracing his features, and his two friends beam at him. Even Niall seems rather uncharacteristically serious about the whole situation.

“Hey.”

Louis startles at the sound of Gemma’s voice behind him, and whirls around to find her standing there, staring down at the phone in her hand.

“What is it?” Louis asks, heart jumping up into his throat.

“Harry just replied,” she explains, looking up at him, “apparently he has a show tonight at some place called Cowell’s.”

“A show?” Louis repeats, surprised, “Really?’

“This would be his first,” Gemma nods, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, “I wonder why he didn’t tell me about it?”

Louis and Gemma stare at each other for a moment, Louis filled with so many questions that he really isn’t sure which one he should voice first.

“Why are you still standing here?” Niall demands finally after a few more moments of silence.

“But… we have a game,” Louis protests lamely.

“We can handle this Louis,” Liam assures, taking a step forward to give Louis a pat on the back, “Besides we all know that’s where you’d rather be anyways, and you are of no use to us if your head is somewhere else.”

Niall nods in agreement rather enthusiastically, and Louis’ heart swells with fondness for his teammates. They really are such incredible mates to him.

“You guys will be brilliant, honestly, you don’t need me,” Louis concurs, excitement swooping low in his belly.

“Obviously,” Niall cackles.

“Now get the hell out of here,” Gemma urges giving Louis a little shove.

Louis nods at the three vigorously before turning and taking off at a jog.

“I owe you all! Be sure to score for me lads!” Louis throws over his shoulder as he rushes off towards the locker room.

“Same goes for you!” Niall calls after him with a lewd wink.

As Louis enters the locker room to change back into his clothes he pulls out his phone and looks up “Cowell’s” on his GPS.

*

 

Forty minutes later Louis finds himself marching towards the front entrance of the bar, so focused only on finding Harry that he starts suddenly when a giant hand lands upon his shoulder, halting him in his tracks.

“Whoa there son, I’m gonna need to see some ID.”

Louis blinks up confusedly at the giant bouncer standing before him. Oh, yes, ID. Shit. He is underage. Louis eternally curses himself for never getting around to acquiring a fake ID, trying to come up with some way to sweet talk his way into the bar when the bouncer’s gaze shifts to something just over Louis’ shoulder.

“It’s okay Andy, Louis here is my special guest.”

Louis whirls around to see Ed smiling down at him with his large, Cheshire cat grin.

“He’s still going to need to show some ID,” the Andy guy replies, seeming entirely unimpressed.

“Andy, Andy,” Ed tuts, shaking his head, “do you really want to be starting trouble with me? I mean, I bring so much money in whenever I play here... But, I suppose I could always find another place to frequent. I’m sure Simon will love that, especially when he hears it was all because you wouldn’t let my friend come in to watch one itsy bitsy, tiny little show…”

Andy grunts, narrowing his eyes at Ed. “Fine. But if I see him anywhere near the bar -or with a drink in his hand- he’s out of here, no matter what you say.”

“Understood,” Ed nods, giving Andy a small pat on the shoulder as he ushers Louis inside.

Once they’re through the doorway Ed wraps Louis up into a giant, friendly hug.

“It’s good to see you mate! I told Harry you would make it.”

Louis tries to swallow past the lump in his throat as he returns Ed’s hug, “Oh yeah, wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”

The bar is dark and crowded as Ed leads Louis across the room towards a table against the far wall, where Louis can see Zayn and Perrie already sat down, along with the same pretty blonde cheerleader that’s been seen with Harry quite frequently lately.

“Look who I found!” Ed announces to the group happily as he takes a seat, Louis following his lead and taking the one between him and Zayn.

“Well, well, well,” Zayn says, quirking an eyebrow at Louis as he fiddles with the cigarette tucked behind his ear, “nice balls, Tomlinson.”

Louis tries to aim a kick at Zayn under the table, but instead sees Perrie flinch and hears her sharp inhale of pain.

“Sorry, love,” Louis amends quickly, giving her a sheepish smile, “that was meant for your boy. Pass it along for me, will you?”

As Perrie gives Zayn a playful slap upside the head Louis turns to find the mystery girl in their party sat right across from him, staring intently.

“Louis,” he offers, extending his hand towards her.

“I know,” she starts, then shakes her head quickly as she clasps her small hand in his, “I mean, I know who you are from school, you know, uh… I’m Paige.”

“Nice to meet you,” Louis laughs, trying to save the girl from further embarrassment and fight back the panic building up within him. Paige is extremely pretty, why would Harry ever possibly choose him over someone like her?

Paige watches Louis closely for a few more moments before stating, “You’re not at the game.”

“Neither are you,” Louis replies simply.

Paige’s cheeks flush as she stares down at her lap, smile forming on her lips. “Yes, well… I just thought maybe my support was needed here a little more.”

Louis recognizes that look instantly, having worn it himself more times than he can possibly count: Paige likes Harry. And they’ve been spending so much time together lately… Louis swallows nervously, realizing that this may all be too little too late. It is quite possible that Harry has already moved on.

“Same,” he finally responds, voice tight. Paige frowns slightly at that, and Louis sees Zayn give him a strange look out of the corner of his eye, but he ignores it.

Suddenly the lights around the bar dim further, and a single spot light comes to life on the center of the stage, revealing a lone mike stand. Harry soon steps out of the shadows and up to the mike, guitar in hand and Louis completely forget what oxygen even is as the people at his table erupt into cheers and cat calls.

Harry looks like some sort of hipster wet dream in his brown boots, black skinnies that should honestly be illegal they are so tight, and a long sleeved, _sheer_ black button up that might as well not have any buttons on it at all. His mess of curls are held back by a green headscarf that seems to make the color of his eyes pop out intensely, even from a distance.

“Hello there,” Harry speaks lowly into the mike, and Louis can tell right away that he is nervous, “my name is Harry Styles, and I’m going to play a couple of songs for you tonight. I hope you enjoy.”

“He was made to be on the stage,” Louis hears Paige mumble dreamily, and he tries to ignore her as Harry begins to strum at his guitar.

Louis nearly chokes on a laugh when recognizes the tune moments before Harry presses his lips against the mike and let’s out a breathy, “ _Baby can’t you see, I’m falling. A guy like you, should wear a warning_ …”

Louis pulls his eyes away from Harry only long enough to chance a glance around the bar. It’s clear to see the crowd has instantly fallen in love with Harry, and honestly, who could blame them? He had captured their attention easily with his looks and charm and incredible voice. Paige was right, Harry definitely belonged on the stage. By the end of the song Louis could tell that Harry had grown more confident, and he began the next one with a cheeky grin spreading across his face, dimples out for all the world to see.

It was a mesmerizing scene to watch really, Harry doing what he loved as complete strangers fell completely and totally underneath his spell.

Harry played a few more covers, some that Louis knew, others he didn’t, before Harry addressed the audience again.

“I would like to thank you all so much for being here tonight,” he tells them with a smile, “I’ve had a great time and you all have been so incredibly lovely. I have one song left to play for you, and it’s something a little different. This is actually a song I wrote with the help of a good friend of mine, someone I’m sure you’re all familiar with, Mr. Ed Sheeran.”

“Woo! Ed!” some girl screams from the other side of the bar, and Ed holds up his beer towards her in recognition.

Harry chuckles brightly, beginning to search the crowd for Ed, and that’s when he spots Louis. His eyes widened slightly, and Louis sees his smile falter just for a moment, before it reappears, bigger than before even if just a tiny bit forced.

“This song,” Harry continues, “is about someone very special, and it’s called Little Things.”

“Ohhh, do you think he wrote this about me?” Paige squeals excitedly.

Maybe Louis was imaging the way Ed laughed under his breath, but he definitely hadn’t imagined Zayn’s eye roll.

The sounds of the guitar echoes around the bar before Harry approaches the mike again, eyes once again finding Louis’ as he begins to sing, “ _Your hand fits in mine like it’s made just for me, but bear this in mind it was meant to be…”_

Harry’s eyes seem to burn into Louis’ soul, keeping him glued to the spot, afraid to even breath, scared that it may break the magic of the moment.

“ _I know you’ve never loved the crinkles by your eyes when you smile, you’ve never loved, your stomach or your thighs, the dimples in your back at the bottom of your spine, but I’ll love them endlessly…”_

“That seems like a weird thing to say,” Paige states.

“Shhh!” Louis hushes her loudly, shooting a glare at her across the table before returning his attention back to Harry.

“ _I know you’ve never loved the sound of your voice on tape…”_

And Louis remembers, every time they’d gone to Ed’s together, how much convincing (and beer) it would take to get Louis to sing along with Harry as he played. Could he have written this for him? So many parts of the song just seemed to add up. Louis is afraid to even get his hopes up.

“ _You’ll never love yourself half as much as I love you. And you’ll never treat yourself right, darling, but I want you to. If I let you know that I’m here for you, maybe you’ll love yourself like I love you, oh. And I’ve just let these little things slip out of my mouth, ‘cause it’s you, oh it’s you, yeah it’s you they add up to. I’m in love with you, and all these little things.”_

As the final notes ring out across the room Harry gives a deep bow to the crowd that is beginning to rise from their seats, thanking them repeatedly before disappearing off the stage.

Louis is up and out of his seat before he even realizes that he has made the decision to do so. The spotlight on the stage fades out but the applause is still going strong from the crowd, accompanied by a few wolf whistles as Louis makes his way swiftly to the other side of the bar.

He can see the door that leads back stage, completely unguarded, and he slips through it quickly before anyone has the chance to try and stop him. He marches down the small hallway until he’s stood before a door that’s sitting slightly ajar. Through the opening Louis can see a small dressing room, and he can make out Harry standing with his back towards him, bent over as he places his guitar back in it’s case. Louis takes a deep, calming breath before entering the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Harry straightens back up, but doesn’t turn around for a long while, and Louis begins to wonder if he’s even aware that he is standing there at all, but then when Harry turns around his face shows no sign of surprise.

“Hi,” Louis says awkwardly, feeling his hands begin to shake slightly at his sides. He clasps them together in front of him nervously.

Harry doesn’t respond, just continues to stare at him, blinking slowly. It rattles the small amount of confidence Louis had managed to build up before this.

“I thought you were really amazing out there tonight,” Louis adds lamely.

“Why are you here?” Harry asks then, eyes narrowing slightly but the rest of his face remaining completely unreadable.

Louis drops his eyes to the floor then. “Well… it’s your first gig. I knew it was important to you.”

“But,” Harry replies, face scrunching up in what looks like confusion, “you had your game tonight. The _big_ game. You’re _last_ game. Wasn’t that important?”

Still staring down Louis kicks at the carpet, giving a slight shrug.

“Louis,” Harry sighs, sounding equal parts exasperated and pleased, “you didn’t have to come here.”

Louis clears his throat, forcing himself to look up and meet Harry’s eye. “Yes I did. I need to apologize to you-“

“Lou, don’t-“

“Please. Just… let me explain? I promise, after that I will leave you alone.”

Louis stares at him pleadingly until Harry turns away and runs a hand threw his curl and then down over his face. But he doesn’t say anything, so Louis uses the silence to his advantage.

“I’m sorry for how I treated you, Harry,” he begins, staring hard at the back of his head, willing the younger lad to turn back around and face him, “I never, ever wanted to hurt you the way I did. I just never realized before how much of a bloody coward I am.”

“You should have just talked to me,” Harry snaps then, whirling around, trying to mask his hurt with anger, “don’t you think, out of all the people you could have talked to, that I would have been the perfect person to understand how you were feeling?”

“No, Harry, I don’t! Because you have no idea how I was feeling! Sure, I may have been having a bit of a sexuality crisis, but that was nothing in comparison to the all-consuming fear that I wasn’t good enough for you!”

“I… what?” Harry stammers, completely caught off guard and confusion clouding his beautiful green eyes.

“Come on Harry,” Louis laughs humorlessly, gesturing towards himself, “we both know that you can do so much better than me. So I thought I’d just beat you to the punch, thought it would hurt less. But I was wrong, it hurt so fucking much, and I hurt you too, which I never wanted, and I’m so, so sorry.”

Harry frowns, “Lou, that… that makes no sense.”

Louis shrugs helplessly, fighting with everything he has to keep the tears that have gathered in his eyes from spilling over. “It doesn’t really matter now though, does it? I know you’ve moved on and everything, but I just… wanted you to know that I’m sorry, and that the time we spent together was honestly the _greatest_ experience of my life.”

Harry remains silent, staring hard at the ground with his brows furrowed. Louis waits another beat for a reply before the humiliation sets in and he just wants to run away and hide.

“Well, that’s all I wanted to say. I’ll leave now.”

He turns quickly to leave, but as he reaches out for the doorknob Harry’s large hand suddenly shoots past him, pressing against the door to hold it shut. Louis sucks in a breath, holding it as he slowly turns to face Harry.

Harry is hunch over Louis slightly, still frowning down at the floor.

“What do you mean,” Harry asks slowly, flicking his eyes up to stare at Louis through his lashes, “that I have moved on?”

Louis shrugs helplessly, willing his voice not to shake, “I saw Paige out there…. She’s really quite pretty, you know.”

Harry blinks at him, before a slow smile spreads across his face.

“Oh, Lou,” he whispers, leaning forward to press his forehead to Louis’, “do you really think that I could replace you so easily?”

Louis doesn’t know how to respond to that, surprise and sudden hope making it near impossible to keep his breathing steady.

Harry pauses only a moment before he leans forward, softly pressing his lips to Louis’ trembling ones. The air is knocked from Louis’ lungs as he let’s out a squeak of surprise. He throws his arms around Harry’s neck, clinging to him desperately.

Maybe hours later, maybe only mere seconds, Harry pulls back and smiles down at Louis gently. “Paige and I have biology together,” he explains in a low whisper, “her uncle owns this place, and her and Ed helped me get the gig here tonight. But she is nothing more than a friend, Lou. I may have been mad at you, yes, but I never stopped wanting you.”

“Oh,” Louis coughs, feeling himself redden all the way to the tips of his ears. “Are you sure Paige knows that?”

Harry frowns slightly, looking concerned. “I’ve made it perfectly clear how I feel. Whether she has accepted that or not, I couldn’t honestly say.”

Poor girl, Louis can’t help but think, he knows exactly what it is like to fall for Harry Styles.

“Please don’t ever think you don’t deserve good things, Louis,” Harry continues quietly, voice serious as he gently traces a thumb along Louis’ jawline, “you deserve everything, and I’ll spend every second of everyday trying to prove that to you if I have to. I mean, if you’ll let me, that is.”

Louis can’t reply, can barely even breath, so instead he closes his eyes against the tears building there and rest his head against Harry’s shoulder, tightening his arms around Harry to keep him close. Harry circles one arm around Louis waist, holding on just as tightly, his other hand running gently up and down Louis’ spin.

“Sorry I’m such an idiot,” Louis mumbles into the skin of Harry’s collarbone.

“No,” Harry insists, curls tickling Louis’ ear as he shakes his head, “you’re not an idiot. Just… next time, please, talk to me. Even if you feel like you can’t, please know, that I will always listen. And trust in me enough to know that I would never just leave you, that I’d never do _anything_ to intentionally hurt you. And next time, I promise, I’ll try to not act like such a twat.”

Louis gives a watery laugh in response.

Silence falls over them, and they just stand there, holding each other, until Louis shifts slightly, gently nosing at Harry’s throat. Louis doesn’t miss the way a shiver ripples through the taller lad.

“You know,” Harry states, voice several octaves lower than usual, “Mom and Robin have gone to London for the weekend.”

Louis gulps audibly, before replying in a shaky whisper, “Gemma is at the game. She’ll probably spend the remainder of the evening with Niall hoping from one victory party to the next.”

Harry pulls back then, searching Louis’ face, his unasked question clear in his bright, green eyes. With all the bravery he can muster, Louis nods in response.

Harry steps away for a moment, gathering his guitar case up from the table and then turns back towards Louis, dimples cratering his face as he smiles down at him gently, holding his hand out to the smaller lad. 

Despite his nerves Louis returns the smile easily, sliding his small hand into Harry’s larger one and tangling their fingers together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, look! A new chapter! I am sure you all probably thought I forgot about you, sorry. This chapter here is the result of three months with next to no free time and insufferable writer's block. I won't promise you that I'll try to not to take so long next time, because honestly if it happens again I'd feel like a liar, but I can say that for sure I will be finishing this work, no matter how long it ends up taking, because nothing bothers me more than abandoned fan fiction (especially if it's one I really enjoyed reading).
> 
> As always thank you for being lovely human beings and taking the time to read my little writings, I love you to infinity and beyond! ;)


	17. Tease Me With Your Skin, Come On Let Me In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the song "Don't Stop Now" by Cauterize.
> 
> WARNING: This entire chapter is pretty much all smut. So if that is not your thing... sorry. LOL

Louis feels as if his heart is about to hammer out of his chest as Harry unlocks the front door and they step into the dark and quiet house. Harry doesn’t bother turning on any lights, just silently walks up the stairs with Louis following not far behind. It isn’t until Harry is reaching for his bedroom door that Louis realizes that he has never actually seen what the inside of Harry’s room looks like.

Curiosity taking over, Louis steps past Harry and takes in his surroundings. The first thing he notices is how ridiculously clean Harry’s floor is, no random piles of clothing and shoes like in Louis’ own room. And Harry’s bed is made. Of course it is. Harry’s Converse and three pairs of the same Chelsea boots just in different colors are lined up neatly just outside his wardrobe, which is closed tightly, rather than exploding open with clothes the way Louis knows his own is back home.

There are several posters across the walls of bands Louis has never even heard of, and Harry has a giant desk tucked into the corner of the room, piled high with textbooks and spiral notebooks that Louis is pretty positive are equal parts school notes and song writings.

There is a collage on the wall above the desk and Louis steps closer to inspect the pictures in the dark. There are many pictures of his family, Robin whispering something in Anne’s ear as she smiles blissfully in response, Gemma flipping off the camera with a scowl that Louis knows is really just masking her fondness. There’s a picture of Ed sitting in a park it looks like, his guitar in hand as he smiles down at someone’s dog that has come up to him and is half in his lap. There is a picture of Niall and Liam at a party, both looking adorably ruffled and clearly wasted as they hold their drinks up, mouths open as if they’d been caught mid victory yell, and their free arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders. There’s another picture of Liam in his football kit, standing on the sidelines next to Danielle in her cheerleading uniform. They seem to have been in conversation, unaware of their picture being taken. Liam is looking at Danielle like she is the sun, and Danielle has a lovely blush coloring her cheeks. There is a picture of Zayn walking with Perrie perched up on his back, both mid laugh, looking so happy and impossibly in love. There’s another picture of Zayn with a cigarette hanging from his lips, looking down at the ground. He’s wearing an oversized jumper and his hair is down, looking messy and soft rather than it’s usual styled to death quiff, and the light in the background suggests that it may have been early morning when this picture was snapped.

Louis continues to look at all the photos quietly, seeing more faces he recognizes and a few he doesn’t, until his eyes land on three photos directly in the middle of it all. The fist is a picture of Louis sitting at Styles’ kitchen table, textbooks open before him as he sits there in what Louis calls his “comfy clothes” (sweats and a hoodie, beanie pulled down low on his head with just his fringe poking out of the front). His eyebrows are furrowed as he glares down at the schoolwork before him, as if it had personally offended him in some way.

The second picture is from one of Louis’ games, though which one he isn’t too sure. Louis looks positively drenched in sweat; his football kit clinging to him in various places along his back and legs, and his fringe is damp as it hangs in front of his eyes. His leg is pulled back, ready to kick the ball before him, and the profile of his face is set in a look of intense concentration.

It’s the last picture though that really catches his attention. It’s at their lunch spot, Louis sitting next to Gemma and Niall, and all three of them are laughing. Though the other two look rather subdued in comparison to Louis, whose head is thrown back, eyes crinkled shut and mouth opened wide and joyful. And maybe it’s the way the sunlight is hitting him, the way it highlights the caramel of his hair, or cast shadows from his cheek bones, but Louis had never seen a picture before that made him feel beautiful the way this picture does.

“I like to take pictures of the people that are important to me,” comes Harry’s quiet voice from Louis’ side, and he jumps slightly, having almost forgotten that Harry was even there. He had set his guitar down in the corner and quietly walked up to Louis’ side as he’d been enraptured by the pictures before him.

“I didn’t even know you had taken these,” Louis replies after a moment, glancing at Harry’s profile from the corner of his eye.

Harry hums in response. “I prefer to take ones where people aren’t paying attention. I think it’s the best way to capture who they truly are.”

“So, according to these, I’m a sweaty jock that struggles with school and laughs too loudly?” Louis teases, turning to face Harry. But the laughter soon dies in the back of his throat when he finds that Harry is already watching him closely, eyes soft and fond.

“And so, so much more,” Harry responds, reaching a large hand forward to cup Louis at the nape of his neck, fingers tangling into the soft hairs at the back of his head as his thumbs rubs soothing circles just behind his ear.

Louis lets out a ragged breath as he stares at the impossible red of Harry’s lips, watching as they come closer and closer until all the lines blur and he feels a bit cross eyed. And then there they are, pillow soft and pressed firmly, yet oh so gently, against Louis’, and he feels his entire body melt into every curve and edge that is Harry Styles.

They kiss slow and lazily, Harry’s other hand finding Louis’ hip, slipping up under his shirt to rub at the warm, soft skin there before slowly sneaking under the waistline of his jeans. Every nerve in Louis’ body feels like a live wire, sparking brightly under every touch.

Louis has his hands pressed flat against Harry’s chest, sliding them down until they meet at the buttons of Harry’s shirt, slowly undoing the few that had actually been done up.

“Do you want to do this?” Harry asks, pulling away slightly to search Louis’ face.

But Louis doesn’t need to be asked, he already knows for certain. And he doesn’t want to waste another second waiting, so he surges forward to recapture Harry’s lips.

Harry seems to catch his urgency, and they begin to grab at each others clothes desperately, stumbling towards the bed until the back of Louis’ knees hit the mattress. Louis tumbles back, pulling Harry along with him until he lands on top of him with a loud “oomph,” both of them giggling into each other’s mouths.

They get lost in a mess of limbs and gentle caresses, thin fabrics giving way to soft skin, the sounds of slick lips and quiet gasps echoing throughout the otherwise still room.

Harry’s hips grind down as Louis’ lift his up to meet them, creating a sweet friction that leaves Louis detaching his lips from Harry’s to throw his head back against the pillows, moaning loudly towards the ceiling.

And then Harry’s face is floating above him, eyes bright and pupils blown, damp curls falling over his face.

“Hi,” he says softly, smile overtaking his face and putting his dimples on full blast.

“Hi,” Louis giggles back, poking his finger into Harry’s left dimple (his personal favorite).

Harry leans down, teeth lightly scraping against Louis’ collarbones.

“I want to eat you out until you cry,” Harry confesses against his skin, and Louis nearly chokes on his tongue before he begins nodding vigorously.

Harry smirks, then murmurs, “On your stomach, love.”

Louis scrambles to get up and flip over as Harry sits back on his calves, grabbing a pillow to place under Louis’ hips and helping him get settled. Louis grabs another pillow to wrap his arms around and place under his chin. He closes his eyes and holds his breath, waiting for Harry to begin. But nothing is happening.

He glances over his shoulder to see Harry just staring down at him in awe.

“Gonna get on with it then?” Louis inquires, trying to hide the slight tremor in his voice (whether it be from nerves or excitement he is no longer able to tell).

Harry shakes his head, eyes finding Louis’.

“Sorry. It’s just… that arse has haunted my dreams for months now.”

Louis tries to hide his blush by smirking, “Oh yeah?”

Harry crawls up the bed, hovering over Louis before placing a gentle kiss right between his shoulder blades.

“You have no idea,” he whispers against Louis’ skin like it’s a secret, slowly making his way down his back, leaving gentle kisses and bruising marks in his wake. “The way your ridiculously tight jeans cling to and show off every curve, drives me fucking wild. Do you realize how difficult it is to concentrate on anything with that thing of beauty walking around?”

He gives a soft nip at the swell of Louis’ right cheek, causing him to inhale sharply, before moving onto the sweet spot right at the bottom of his bum where it connects to the back of his thigh, sucking gently.

“And watching it bounce up and down as you run along the football pitch in those damn shorts should be illegal. It’s so mesmerizing. There should not be so much porn at a high school footie match.”

Louis tries to regulate his breathing. “Are you going to write songs about my arse then?”

Harry straddles Louis’ thighs, hands massaging the plump muscled cheeks of his ample bottom.

“I’m going to write a whole God damn album about it,” Harry declares reverently, before spreading Louis’ cheeks apart and leaning forward, his hot breath ghosting over the tight pink ring of muscles causing it to twitch.

Louis barely gets the chance to brace himself before Harry’s tongue licks a firm stripe across his hole, causing every muscle in his body to jerk suddenly.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he hisses, burying his face into the pillow.

“Are you ready for this love?” Harry asks, and Louis can hear the smile in his voice.

“Do you’re worst, Styles,” Louis pants into the pillow, and that’s all the permission Harry needs before he sets to work. His tongue circles around, before tentatively entering inside, wiggling back and forth to penetrate deeper until Louis is white knuckling the sheets.

Harry keeps up a steady rhythm, working his tongue in and out before circling around the rim, sucking on the tight muscle with just the slightest scrap of teeth.

It doesn’t take long for Louis to become a squirming, moaning mess beneath Harry’s touch, back arching and skin flushed a gorgeous pink.

Harry pulls back, and Louis whines high in the back of his throat at the loss. Harry leans over Louis’ trembling body, and whispers hotly against his ear, “Open your mouth baby.”

Louis does as he’s told, too dazed to question it, and Harry easily slips two fingers inside his waiting mouth.

“Now suck baby,” he commands gently, nipping at Louis’ earlobe and tugging slightly.

Louis moans and nods distractedly, cheeks hollowing out as he sucks on Harry’s long, slender fingers. He works his tongue around and in between them, making sure to slick them up thoroughly.

“That’s it baby, God, being such a good boy for me,” Harry encourages, sounding just as worked up as Louis feels.

Harry removes his fingers and quickly buries his face back into Louis’ arse, resuming his attack against the sensitive hole before sliding one of his slicked up fingers in along side his tongue. He works them in opposite directions, tongue swirling along the edges as he plunges his finger deep, before pulling the finger back out and wiggling his tongue deep inside.

“Oh God yesssss,” Louis hisses, his dick painfully hard and trapped between himself and the bed. He thrusts down against the mattress, desperate for some friction, before pushing back against Harry’s mouth.

“No, no baby, none of that,” Harry scolds lightly, gripping Louis’ hips firmly and lifting his bum up into the air. Louis whimpers in frustration as the cool air hits his throbbing member.

Harry slides both fingers into Louis slowly and carefully, other hand still holding onto his hip to hold him in place, grip tight enough to surely leave a bruise. He pumps his fingers in and out a few times until he’s sure Louis has become used to the feeling before spreading his fingers and stretching Louis open, slipping his tongue in between the two digits.

Harry continues to work him open slowly, each swipe of his tongue causing shivers to wrack their way down his spin. Louis is practically drooling into the pillow, moaning loudly and rocking back into Harry’s face.

And then Harry’s fingers hit a spot that has Louis seeing stars. He throws his head back, practically arching off the mattress, toes curling tightly, and his mouth hanging open in a silent moan.

Harry continues to hit the spot, again and again, and Louis can feel his swollen cock beginning to dribble.

“P-please Harry… s-stop,” Louis pants out, and Harry quickly pulls out of Louis, and the latter collapses gratefully against the mattress.

“What’s wrong love? Did I hurt you?” Harry asks, voice laced with concern as he runs a gentle hand up and down Louis’ back.

Louis shakes his head, trying to catch his breath to speak.

“I was too close, wanted… want you inside me first.”

Before Louis even has a chance to blink Harry is flipping him over onto his back, looming over him with a smug look on his face.

“Were just about to come for only my tongue baby?”

Louis nods, unshed tears gracing his eyes and feeling completely overwhelmed in the best possible way. “It is a wicked, wicked thing.”

Harry giggles, burying his face into the crook of Louis’ neck.

“Please fuck me, Harry,” Louis begs, as if Harry didn’t already know that’s what he wanted.

Harry pulls back to gaze down at Louis, features soft as he traces gently along his jaw line.

“I will baby, of course I will,” he promises quietly before reaching over to his bedside table to dig around in the top drawer for a bottle of lube and a condom.

Harry waste no time properly slicking up his fingers and hauling Louis’ right leg up over his shoulder, kissing and marking up his inner thigh to distract Louis as he gets three fingers inside him.

Louis can feel the muscles in his legs trembling as Harry works him open, and he moans unabashedly, thrusting down with his hips as Harry’s fingers scissor inside of him, the stretch burning in the best possible way.

“Please hurry, need… need you so bad,” Louis begs, digging the heel of his foot into Harry’s back to bring him closer.

Harry pulls his fingers out with a frantic nod, scrambling for the condom lying on the bed beside him.

Louis watches as Harry struggles to get the condom open and roll it down over his length, his hands shaking uncontrollably. He finally gets it on, giving himself two quick tugs to slick himself up, and then he is leaning over Louis once more, lining himself up against Louis’ hole.

Harry’s large green eyes blink down at Louis, asking if he is ready, and Louis blinks back at him, trying to convey a yes. He must understand because he nods slightly and slowly begins to push inside.

Louis holds his breath, trying not to wince. The stretch of three fingers is nothing in comparison to just the tip of Harry’s large cock, and Louis doesn’t know how he is possibly going to be to handle the rest of that monstrous thing.

“Breathe baby, relax,” Harry reminds, and Louis nods, sucking in a giant breath.

Harry continues is slow decent inside until he bottoms out, balls snug up against Louis’ arse. And time freezes, both boys still as they breathe harshly into the otherwise quiet room.

The pain slowly begins to ebb away, and once Louis feels able he moves his hips experimentally to readjust himself.

Harry inhales sharply, the hand gripping Louis’ hip tightening almost painfully.

“Stop,” Harry grits out.

“Are you okay?” Louis asks, blinking in confusion.

Harry’s eyes are scrunched close, a look of something that looks like pain spread across his beautiful features.

“Harry?” Louis tries again.

“You’re just so tight baby,” Harry pants out, swallowing and then trying to take a deep breath, “I… I just don’t think I’ll be able to last.”

Louis can’t help but let out a small chuckle at that, and Harry pouts at him in return.

Louis slips a hand up into Harry’s sweaty curls at the back of his head, bringing his face down to capture his lips in a gentle kiss. He sucks Harry’s tongue into his mouth slowly, tasting him and teasing him with his tongue until he can physically feel Harry relaxing a bit against him.

“Okay,” Harry says as he pulls back, whether to himself or Louis it is hard to tell, and then he pulls back slowly and rolls his hips forward, though a bit hesitantly.

Loud moans practically rip out of Louis from deep within his chest, Harry continuing to fuck into him slowly, pulling out farther and slamming back in deeper with each stroke.

Louis’ cock is sitting heavy against his stomach, dark purple and painful from lack of attention, and he reaches down to get a hand around himself. Harry catches the movement and wraps a hand around Louis’ wrist, pulling his hand away and pressing in down into the mattress above his head, lacing their fingers together.

“Not yet babe,” Harry explains, hips beginning to speed up.

Louis nods in understanding, entire body rocking with the punishing pace Harry is now pounding into him.

He wraps his legs around Harry, the heels of his feet digging slightly into his lower back as he brings his hips up to meet Harry’s.

Harry has both of Louis’ hands above his head now, pinning him into the mattress and causing Louis to arch his back up, their sweaty chests bumping and sliding against each other.

Harry’s thrust finally hits Louis in the prostate dead on and Louis nearly bites his own tongue off.

With a satisfied smirk Harry slips his arms up under Louis’ back and lifting him up off the mattress and sitting back until Louis is sitting up on his lap. Harry snaps his hips up, hitting Louis’ prostrate again and again relentlessly .

Louis’ throws his head back, mouth open in a silent moan, unable to actually produce any sound. Harry attack his exposed neck with his mouth, marking him up and murmuring praise against his skin as Louis’ hands struggle to find purchase against Harry’s shoulders and back, nails scrapping across his pale skin.

Louis has lost all control of motor functions, able to do nothing more but simply take all that Harry is giving to him.

Finally Harry slips a hand between their two bodies, wrapping a firm hand around Louis’ poor neglected cock and giving it a slight tug while hoarsely whispering in Louis’ ear, “Fuck, I love you.”

Bright, white light explodes behind Louis’ eyes as he comes, entire body tensing and jerking as white streaks shoot across his and Harry’s chests.

He collapses against Harry, face buried into his shoulder and Harry thrusts up into him three more times before coming himself, entire body trembling and arms wrapping around Louis to hold him impossibly tighter.

They sit there tangled around each other as they both come down from their respective orgasms, and Louis does not even realize he’s crying until a sob rips from his throat.

“Louis?” Harry asks, alarmed as he pulls back to search Louis’ face. He wipes tears away from his cheeks, fear coloring his voice, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Louis gives a watery laugh, looking up to meet Harry’s wide eyes, smiling in hopes to relieve some of his worry.

“I love you too, you fool,” Louis laughs, more tears streaming down his face, his voice rough and completely fucked out.

Harry stares at him for a moment longer before understanding finally crosses his features, and he smiles at Louis gently.

“I love,” he repeats, again and again as he places a kiss to Louis’ forehead, then one to the tip of his nose, then his cheeks and his chin before finally connecting their lips together.

After a few more chaste kisses, Harry gently pulls out of Louis (and Louis only winces slightly), removing the condom and tying it off before tossing it into the trash. He then wanders off to the bathroom to bring back a damp flannel, gently cleaning up both Louis and himself before climbing back into bed, pulling Louis close and snuggling up onto him chest.

“I love you,” Harry says one last time.

“I love you too,” Louis relies around a yawn, eyes fluttering before he finally slips off into sleep, every bone and muscle in his body exhausted.

*

 

A loud crash jolts Louis from his sleep, and he goes to sit up, only to find a heavy weight on his chest. He rapidly blinks the sleep from his eyes until Harry’s sleeping frame comes into focus, draped over Louis with his cheek smooshed up against Louis’ chest and their legs tangled together.

Slowly it comes back to Louis, where he is and exactly how he has ended up here, and he smiles down at Harry fondly, gently pushing a few curls back from his forehead. He looks like a sleeping angel, with soft little snores escaping his slightly parted, kiss-swollen lips.

Before he has a chance to make sense of why he has woken up there is another loud crash from somewhere within the house, causing Louis to jump and jostle Harry into consciousness.

“Wassat?” Harry groans, his voice still hoarse with sleep as he scrunches his face up in annoyance.

The bedroom door then swings opened wildly, causing both boys to sit up instantly.

“I knew it!” comes Gemma delighted and incredibly slurred yell as she leans heavily against the doorframe, surveying the two of them with a rather manic smile and glassy eyes.

“Naughty, naughty boys,” she teases, “Louis, I hope you plan on making an honest man out of my wittle baby brother.”

“Oh my God Gemma, get the fuck out!” Harry groans loudly in embarrassment, hiding his face into the crook of Louis neck and shoulder. Louis let’s out a low chuckle, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Harry’s back.

“You’re just so adorable,” Gemma hiccups, “makes me feel like projectile vomiting all over the room.”

“Lovely sentiment Gem, but are you sure that’s not the entire liquor store you consumed earlier this evening?” Louis asks with a raised brow.

“Fuck you, Tomlinson. I know how to handle my alcohol,” Gemma scowls, losing her balance slightly and having to grab onto the doorframe for support.

“Clearly,” Louis smirks.

Gemma straightens up, squaring her shoulders back, and tries to point at Louis without swaying, “Just because you’re my brother’s new hump toy that won’t stop me from kicking your arse.”

Niall suddenly appears at Gemma’s side, pink faced and slightly out of breathe.

“Sorry lads,” he pants, throwing an arm around Gemma’s shoulder, “had to take a piss and thought she’d be fine on her own for a few minutes… clearly not.”

Niall then glances into the room for the first time, blinking owlishly as he spots the two of them in bed together.

“Ye-yeah, Tommo, get it!” Niall cheers loudly once it clicks, throwing his hand up to give Louis an air five from across the room. Gemma laughs before cheering as well.

“Will you two kindly fuck off?” Harry whines, voice high and muffled from where he is still hiding in Louis’ neck.

Gemma turns to Niall, slowly wrapping her arms around his neck and seeming to forget entirely about the other two boys in the room.

“Hey you,” she says softly, “you’re damn cute. Why aren’t you naked yet? I wanna suck you off.”

Niall throws his head back and laughs as Harry shrieks, “Oh my God!”

Niall cups Gemma’s cheek gently in his hand, bringing his forehead up against hers until they are staring cross eyed at each other. “Maybe later love. First let’s get you some water and a nap.”

“Can it be a naked nap?” Gemma tries, waggling her eyebrows suggestively before hiccuping loudly.

“Haha we’ll see.”

“Just go!” Harry shouts as he sits up suddenly, throwing a pillow at them.

It lands at Gemma’s feet, and Louis can see the argument behind her eyes, can practically taste the words about to spill from her lips, but Niall is too quick for her. He swoops her up suddenly in his arms bridal style, sending her into a fit of giggles.

She reaches out to snatch Niall’s snapback from his head, placing it upon her own, then points a hand towards the hall and shouts, “Onward, Ireland!”

They crash off own the hall together, laughing and cursing and making disgustingly loud kissing sounds until Gemma’s bedroom door slams shut, the house relatively quiet once again.

“I’m gonna kill her,” Harry mumbles, having hidden his face back into Louis’ neck.

“It could have been worse,” Louis tries, running a hand gently through Harry’s curls.

Harry looks up at him then, chin digging slightly into Louis’ chest, and frowns. “How could it have possibly been worse?”

Louis shrugs innocently before saying, “Your parents could have come home early and it could have been your mom walking in on us.”

Harry’s eyes go wide, as if that possibility had never occurred to him.

“Oh God!” he groans, bringing his hands up to cover his eyes.

Louis chuckles lightly before gently removing Harry’s hands from his eyes. Harry stares up at him, eyes large and reflecting the moonlight in the room beautifully.

“Hey,” Louis says simply.

“Hey,” Harry replies, blinking slow.

“I love you.”

And boy, was Louis wrong about the moonlight. It is actually the light of all the stars in the galaxies shining out of Harry’s eyes as a wide grin spreads across his face. 

“I love you, too,” Harry replies breathlessly before fully pouncing on top of Louis, crashing their mouths together. Louis laughs into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Harry to pull him closer. He thinks being crushed to death by Harry Styles sounds like the perfect way to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are still here and reading this new chapter THANK YOU AND I AM SORRY. It as been far too long and I really have no excuse but like I have said before I WILL finish this, no matter how long it takes, but I am really hoping to post the final chapter in the next week or so. I love you all dearly, and thank you so much for reading my little story :)


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